Stuck in the Desert
by Firega
Summary: Marik and Bakura are on their way to the next evil council meeting somewhere in Egypt, but their car breaks down in the middle of their journey and threatens to leave them stranded together in an unfamiliar town for who knows how long. Thiefshipping, Abridged Universe.
1. Broken Down

**Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! or any of the characters in it! Yu-Gi-Oh! was created by Kazuki Takahashi, and Yu-Gi-Oh! the Abridged Series was created by LittleKuriboh. Please support the official release!**

Chapter 1: Broken Down

They were somewhere in Egypt. At least, that's what the subtitles always seemed to say. However, this particular time they weren't exactly in the somewhere that they needed to be. Great. Just perfect. Bakura rubbed his temples. Of all the people to be stuck in the desert with, why did it have to be this idiot? But it could have been worse. Somehow.

At the very least, Egypt was a lot different than back in Bakura's days. When he was alive, the desert was plain and simply a desert. There was only one village and the rest of the country was a barren wasteland of sand and cacti. But now, it was different. Technology really does a wonder to a culture in just three millennia. Yes, there was still sand and cacti, but the cities were large, filled with roads, restaurants, hotels, and all sorts of tourist attractions. So at the very least, they weren't about to starve to death on some god forsaken boiling island of nothingness.

Bakura sighed and got out of the car. They had been driving for hours in a sleek and brand new looking silver car that Marik had borrowed from his sister. That really seemed to figure. She never really did like Bakura. In fact, she quite hated him. And Ishizu had the Millennium Necklace, which she could see the future with, so she probably knew the thing would break down on them. She knew how much Marik could get under Bakura's skin. It was no wonder she lent it out so willingly to her irresponsible little brother. But what did Bakura ever do to her? Besides the obvious things he did to her and the rest of the Pharaoh's servants in their previous lives. Bakura smirked a little, remembering how he was in the past. An unmerciful killer and thief. That's the way he liked it.

But now here he was, stuck in the body of a happy-go-lucky teenager, partnered up with the biggest moron on the face of the planet to finally exact revenge on the Pharaoh which he failed to do so in his original life, on their way to and evil council that proved absolutely useless at accomplishing anything at all, and no matter what happened they would somehow make the Pharaoh's life a whole lot easier in the end.

Why did he let himself get dragged into such a mess? No, he knows why. It was because of Marik. As a villain, Marik is quite simply a failure. He was just too innocent, too childish, and too oblivious to have any real potential. But nevertheless Marik decided to make this council. A council where all the villains could unite and destroy the Pharaoh together. Bakura knew from the start it was a bad idea. Of course it was. It wasn't even a question. Especially since the leader was none other than Marik. But when Marik asked him to join, he just couldn't say no. The pure, innocent, and childlike Marik who asked him with his puppy dog eyes would have been crushed to pieces if Bakura refused. But why should he have cared? Why? He vowed to do anything to get his revenge. And Marik, to be honest, was in the way. They had the same goal, but Marik was just one big distraction after another. So why did he care that his feelings would be hurt if he simply said no? If it was anyone else, he wouldn't have hesitated, he wouldn't have cared.

Maybe it was his damn gorgeous Egyptian body that tricked him. The perfectly tanned skin, his shining blond hair, the marking under his eyes that highlighted his sparkling violet eyes, his midriff sticking out with muscles to compliment his attire of tight leather pants and a overly shrunken shirt, tied all together with heavy gold jewelry on his arms and hanging from his ears. Who knows? But in the end, it doesn't matter why he did what he did. Because in the end, he said yes. In the end, he is Marik's partner as a villain. So here he was. Here they were.

Marik continued to jam the key in the exhaust over and over. The car gurgled in a desperate attempt to start again, each time failing and making a choking sound.

"It's not going to start," Bakura sighed. He knew well enough that his bad luck alone meant that they were stranded. So much for being fashionably early to the evil council meeting. Marik let out a frustrated "gah" noise and slammed back into the leather seat. He crossed his arms and stiffened up his lips into a pout. Bakura rolled his eyes. Pouting at the car wasn't going to help him. Not like it helped him drag Bakura along for this ride instead of just taking a plane. _"It would be more fun this way!"_ He remembered Marik explain to him.

"Well we can't just do nothing!" Marik whined, "Who knows what those guys will do without us! They could destroy our secret lair!"

"I think that's the last of our concerns right now," Bakura replied dryly. He went over to the front of the car and lifted up the hood. A puff of smoke burst from the engine and left Bakura coughing for air. He swatted the smoke away as if they were flies and tried to look into the vehicle. Marik jumped out from the driver's seat and stretched out his body. Bakura couldn't help but glance over, seeing his tan body glow ever more vividly in the hot desert sunlight, especially that midriff of his. Maybe being stuck with him wasn't so bad. They were alone, after all. But who was he kidding? It was Marik, and despite his body, he would also be stuck with the whining and constant yammering about who knows what as well. He quickly shook off his arousal and turned his attention back to the car. God please, let it be something easy to fix.

"Well, what's wrong with it?" Marik asked peeking up at Bakura curiously after he finished stretching. He perched himself besides him and rested his chin on his hands. Bakura tried not to look at him. He didn't want any more distracting thoughts appearing in his head. But he kept staring down into the hood of the car, hopelessly confused. It all looked the same. Just a bunch of metal and wires to him. He was a thief, not a repairman.

"I don't know. Ryou doesn't have a license. So cars aren't exactly my specialty," Bakura pointed out. It wasn't a good excuse, but it was still somewhat legitimate. Many of his hosts before Ryou did own cars and what not, but Bakura rarely ever found himself taking control of their bodies as he did this one. He never had a reason to. For the most part, he spent most of his years waiting around in his soul room, hoping that the Pharaoh would show up somewhere. And he did. Eventually that is.

Bakura shut the hood, seeing as Marik looked just as puzzled as he did staring into the thing.

"I know!" Marik exclaimed. He pointed over to the town that they had luckily broken down not too far from. "We could probably get someone from there to repair it for us."

"Yes, Marik. Only there's one problem. We didn't bring any money for this little joy ride." Normally Bakura would much rather enjoy holding a knife to someone and force them to do it, even if they did have the money. But right now, he just wanted out. He didn't want to risk having to deal with any authorities that would be called if they were caught. True it was a lot more fun, but Bakura wasn't exactly in the mood for fun.

"That's where you're wrong!" Marik smiled proudly, placing his hands on his hips. Bakura raised an eyebrow. There's no way Marik had enough money for a car repair. He hardly had enough money to add to his collection of yaoi manga, which he denies is proof that he was anything but straight. But Marik continued to smile as he reached for something out of his back pocket. Bakura knew there was no way he could stuff that much money in there without him knowing. And he knew for sure he would notice if something unusual was in that area.

But it wasn't cash of any sort that Marik had pulled out. Instead, it was a flimsy card. But it didn't look like any Duel Monster's card he had ever seen. No, because it wasn't. It was a credit card.

"Where in bloody hell did you get that?" Bakura wondered, slightly stunned. If Marik had had a credit card, he was sure that he would have seen him use it before now. Bakura continued to look at him skeptically.

"Well, duh! It's not mine!" He cheered as if it was something to brag about, "It's Rishid's. I sort of borrowed it without him noticing. I thought maybe we'd pick up a few things before we get there." Bakura smirked a little, slightly impressed with Marik. Just slightly.

"Well, well, aren't we becoming a good little thief? Maybe you have been listening to me after all," Bakura laughed. He walked over to Marik and relieved him of the credit card. "But maybe I should hold onto it. Just in case." It's not that Bakura didn't want Marik to go crazy buying things with it, like clothing and any other item that caught his attention. Bakura honestly didn't care about that. But Egypt was full of people who would pickpocket you for a dime. And Marik was the easiest of all targets. And even if he somehow managed to not get it stolen, he probably would lose it anyways.

Marik just shrugged the comment off and began to skip his merry way into the town. He didn't seem at all phased by their current situation. In fact, he seemed like he was rather enjoying it despite his concern for the secret lair. Bakura rolled his eyes and reluctantly followed. Maybe if he stayed far enough back, no one would think that he was affiliated with him. But Marik noticed him trailing behind.

"Hurry up, Bakura! The council is waiting! You're such a slow poke, you know!" Marik yelled impatiently over to him. "Are those kitty ears of yours that you call hair weighing you down or something? We can take care of that while we're in town too!"

"Joy."

Bakura cringed, but picked up the pace. He watched as the car became further and further away as they headed into town. It was hot, and he was tired. They had been driving for hours before the car had broken down, and Bakura was enjoying being able to sleep to ignore Marik's ridiculous stories about the time be found a stray cat or the time he thought he lost the Millennium Rod, when really it was in the back loop of his belt on his waist. He wasn't sure exactly where they were, but it was still too early for them to be near the so-called secret lair yet. If he had to guess, they probably had a couple more hours of driving left.

He just prayed that these repairs wouldn't take longer than an hour or two. The faster it was repaired, the faster they could leave, and the faster Bakura could get through the evil council meeting and be done with it. Then, he could start a new plan about how he was really going to defeat the Pharaoh once and for all. By himself, with no rearranging sock drawers necessary.

…


	2. Seven Days in Hell

Chapter 2: Seven Days in Hell

"I beg your pardon?" Bakura growled, eye twitching in annoyance. Marik stood at the back of the repair shop, tapping his foot and messing around with a strange looking wrench, waving it around as if it were some sort of sword. The man looked strangely at the white haired boy, wondering if he really didn't hear him or not, but continued his analysis as he scratched his beard.

"The interior is really banged up," he repeated as he fiddled with some of the wires, "And I don't have all the parts available here to replace em' with. So, it's going to take at least a week to get them in…" That's what Bakura thought he said. A week. A whole week. And that wasn't even including the time it took to actually repair the car. He cursed under his breath and rubbed his temples. He didn't even know the name of the town they were in, but he was stuck here for an entire week. Not to mention, with Marik. If he could survive this without losing his sanity, murdering the Pharaoh would be child's play.

A crashing noise interrupted Bakura's thoughts. He turned to Marik, who had accidently lost grip of the wrench and flung it into a work bench. Marik turned away quickly, shuffling his hands behind his back and pretending like he hadn't done it. And that, was exactly the behavior he was going to have to put up with. But the repair man didn't seem to care as he continued to punch a few numbers into an outdated calculator.

"It's not looking too pretty… Right now it's gonna' cost yer around-"

Bakura interrupted him. "I don't care how much it costs. Just get it fixed, or so help me god." He snapped. The man shrugged, shuffling the toothpick in his mouth to the other side and handing him some paper work. Bakura didn't bother reading any of it. He signed it in the same name as the credit card would be in, just in case; Rishid Ishtar. The man glanced at the signature and slipped it in a drawer. He pulled out a wrench from his back pocket of his tool belt and began to work on the things he could.

"Come check back in about a week er' so. It should be up n' running by then." The man finished. Bakura sighed and went over to Marik, kicking a few spare parts in frustration on the way.

"So Bakura," Marik began, oblivious to Bakura's aggravated expression, "I was thinking, when we get to the evil council meeting, maybe we should begin with having like a party! Only, it'll be an evil party! Where instead of pinning a lame tail on a donkey, we could use a knife, and it'll be Yuugi Mutou instead of a donkey! Hah! Genius right?" Bakura rolled his eyes.

"Sorry to burst you bubble Marik… But it looks like we're going to be here longer than we thought…" Bakura cringed. Even if he did pull a knife to the repairman, it wouldn't help since he didn't have the parts. And from the directory map they had looked at before coming here, this was the only repair shop. Not to mention there were no places for renting a car or anything like that. Typical. Even after how many years of being dead, Egypt is still mostly a useless bucket of heat and sand. So much for technology. It would be impossible to get stranded anywhere in Japan, but this place was a different story.

Marik cocked his head in confusion. "Well how long?" Too long, in Bakura's standards.

"…A week."

"What?! Those fools! They're sure to destroy my lair in that amount of time! Especially that Zorc fellow..." Marik stomped his foot and swirled around to think, placing his finger on his chin and nodding to himself. Bakura looked as him puzzled, wondering what in the world he was doing. Marik finally swirled back toward Bakura. "Well, I suppose we'll just have to make do!"

"T-that's it?" Bakura stuttered. He was expecting some big and whiny speech about how incompetent the people here were. About how Rex and Weevil would totally throw the coolest party without them. Or how he would absolutely not stay in a town where there wasn't even an amusement park or movie theater of some sort that he could waste hours at.

"You know, this could actually be fun!" Marik cheered. "I bet there's loads of stuff we can do here!" Bakura gave up. It was Marik after all. But there was only one "fun" thing he could possibly think of they could do together in some unfamiliar town with no modern attractions. And let's just say, as long as Marik continues to insist he's straight, there was no way he'd ever agree to it. Not that Bakura would actually ask for his consent if his certain "desires" finally got the best of him. But that was only a lustful fantasy of his that occasionally did enter his dreams at night.

"Bakura? Are you coming?" Marik waved over to him, now out of the repair shop. Bakura looked up. He didn't even notice Marik had left. Then again, it was strangely quiet for a moment. And with Marik, that was definitely strange. Shaking off his crude thoughts, he followed Marik out into the town.

There weren't vendors and stalls all around like in Bakura's day, but a series of small rundown shops. Marik looked around in awe, as if he hadn't ever been to Egypt before. He looked like a tourist himself. But when Bakura thought about it, Marik only really grew up inside a dark tomb before moving to Japan on his quest to kill the Pharaoh. It was also where the intricate tattoo was carved mercilessly onto his back by his father with nothing but a hot piece of metal. Bakura had seen it a couple of times, since Marik was occationally insistant about walking around without a shirt on. But as if the purple cloth that barely covered his chest would really pass off as a shirt anyways. But maybe he didn't really know what Egypt was like after all. Bakura wouldn't know though. Marik rarely talks about anything that wasn't seemingly absurd, which included his past.

At least, not after the Mariku incidents…

"Sheesh, you really are slow today Bakura!" Marik concluded, pushing Bakura forward since he clearly wasn't paying attention. He dragged him inside of a tiny shop on the corner of the street marked 'Egyptian attire,' which seemed like a definite tourist trap. Inside was just as rundown looking as the outside, almost like in a bad neighborhood in Japan, and it felt even hotter inside than it did in the desert sun. The shopkeeper looked more like a scammer than anything else, with dark bags under her eyes from being sleep deprived. Bakura had a bad feeling already. Why couldn't they have broken down near a bigger city, like Cairo? He was capable of taking care of himself, but Marik was a different story.

"Why are we here?" Bakura hissed. Marik, somewhat ignoring him and pouring his attention into the small racks of clothing, replied gleefully.

"Well duh! You said we'd be here for a week! And I don't know about you, but I'm not going to wear the same sweaty clothes for a whole seven days!" Seven days. It sounded longer when he said it that way. It only took seconds for Marik to get on Bakura's nerves. But a whole seven days? Bakura grumbled to himself and watched as Marik tossed aside the foreign clothing. "Why is everything white? And none of this stuff show's enough stomach for me, you know Bakura?" Bakura rolled his eyes.

"Because it's hot Marik. You're the one's who's Egyptian." Bakura pointed out. Although technically they both were. "Besides, you should know that you could probably walk around here without wearing a shirt and no one would care. You already do it anyways." But Bakura knew better than that. Maybe if this were still his time when almost everyone did do that, including himself. Now days, no matter what country you're in, not wearing a shirt was a sign to stay away from that person. But Marik turned around and looked at him with puppy dog eyes.

"R-really?" He said in a hopeful expression.

"No," Bakura scoffed. Marik's excited face turned into a crushed looking school boy, as if he had just been rejected by the girl he had a crush on. Which Bakura also knew was a bad example to compare to, since, whether Marik would admit it or not, was definitely not interested in the female gender. Bakura laughed as Marik scowled at him and turned back to what he would call concentrating.

"Jerk," Marik pouted.

"Just hurry up," Bakura said, still smirking. He walked over behind Marik and leaned against a wall. Something caught his eyes though. It was a cloak. A red one to be exact. It had one line of white trim around the edges and sleeve, with its length going down all the way to the ground. It looked strangely familiar to Bakura. He thought about it for a moment. It was almost exactly like the cloak he used to wear, despite the fact that his cloak had a double trim of white lines. Unbeknownst to himself, he began to slightly smile to himself, remembering the old days of killing the Pharaoh's precious priests in cold blood without breaking even the slightest sweat. The days where he stole what he wanted when he wanted.

Bakura shook his head to erase the thoughts. This wasn't the time to be reminiscing about the past. If he started to remember the good things, he'd be forced to eventually remember the bad things along with them. Not that he could ever forget the bad things. Never. Not after what the Pharaoh had done to him… Even if he wanted to forget. He never could. Never will. And that's why the Pharaoh must also die by his hands. Forgetting isn't an option.

"You should probably get something too Bakura. And might I suggest something without sleeves. You could really use a tan, you know! You're as pale as a ghost!" Marik finally finished picking out his outfits, although a lot of them needed some "Marik flare" added to them later, or moreover, subtracted from them. Bakura removed his gaze from the cloak and back to the blond Egyptian.

"I'm fine," Bakura replied dryly. Marik shrugged it off and Bakura handed him the credit card. He thought for a moment how furious his half-brother would be when he got his credit card bill for this month. Bakura wouldn't want to miss it. He grinned.

It didn't feel all that late. But by the time Bakura and Marik had left the small shop the sun had been setting beneath the ocean of sands. Luckily, the town was small, so a hotel was only minutes away. And to Bakura's surprise, the hotel didn't seem that rundown compared to the town. It was called "Shady Village Inn." Shady Village? It sounds like some sort of quaint place that would be in the tropical regions. But instead, it was a small under populated, rugged old place. Were they trying to be funny in naming this place?

The clerk at the desk was young, and looked like a tourist herself. She wasn't as old and tired looking as the rest of the people in this town.

"What can I do for you?" She asked refreshingly. Bakura was turned off by the sheer optimism in her voice. It reminded him of another overly optimistic person that he had the displeasure of being stuck here with. When she opened her eyes from the overdone welcoming smile, her eyes widened. They glowed like a child does when they see a toy they absolutely must have. She looked back and forth between the two excitedly. Bakura wasn't sure if it was safe to speak up, while Marik on the other hand smiled directly back.

"We need a room," Marik declared. "The best one here!" Some sort of strange fireworks appeared in the girls eyes when she heard the words. Bakura figured it out. He'd seen this look before, and was familiar with it. Very familiar with it. He slouched back, eye twitching in disgust. Oh god. It was a fan girl. And not just any fan girl, a yaoi fan girl. And she obviously thought they were "together."

"Two rooms," Bakura corrected. Both Marik and the girl turned to Bakura looking confused and disappointed.

"Why?" Marik asked with those puppy dog eyes again. Bakura looked back at him in almost disbelief. Why? Wait, was Marik the one asking this? What does he mean why? He's the one who insists he's straight. Why the hell is he the one asking why they should be in separate rooms? Is he trying to entice Bakura? It was like he was just asking for it. Is he really stupid enough not to see what was wrong with his suggestion? Bakura couldn't help but let the crude thoughts once again cloud his mind. Just him and Marik, alone in a hotel room. The room would probably be small. It would probably have one bed. It would also have one shower. Alone. With an unaware boy with the body that would rival that of any god or goddess. Not to mention how incredibly easy it would be to take advantage of someone like Marik. An idiot like him would fall for anything. Will fall for anything.

Bakura wanted to slap himself, if that was even possible. Damn Ryou's virgin body. Even the slightest of bad thoughts made it aroused.

"B-because Marik-" Bakura quickly retaliated, trying to erase the images of Marik's bare and helpless body flowing through his mind. It didn't help that Marik looked up innocently at him with those pure violet eyes of his.

"Well I mean, wouldn't it be a lot easier if we just stayed in the same room anyways? I mean it seems like a lot of trouble to go to get separate rooms and all. It'd cost more too. Besides! It'll be fun, like a sleepover or something!" Marik cheered.

"Exactly my thoughts!" The clerk added excitedly, cheering along with Marik. Bakura looked at them both. They were both idiots. It was bad enough Marik was just daring him, but this clerk wasn't exactly helping out either. Damn clerk. Everyone was out to get him. But Bakura sighed. As much as he didn't want to admit it, technically Marik had a point. And Bakura's mind wasn't clear enough to think of a good reason to suggest otherwise at the moment. Marik would probably just whine and complain either way. So did it really matter? He was probably going to hate himself for doing this. He already does.

"…W-whatever…" Bakura mumbled. Marik smiled brightly at him, and the clerk did as well. He wanted to ring that clerks neck, along with Marik. Why did he ever let himself agree to any of this? And why did Marik have to be so damn attractive and innocent?

"Here are your keys!" The girl said, handing them two pairs. Marik swiped them up, reading the number on them and then heading for the elevator. Bakura reluctantly followed, wishing he had the willpower to have just said no. Once again, when he's with Marik, he just can't ever get himself to say no. At least not when it really mattered. This night alone was going to be extremely long… How in bloody hell was he going to last seven more?

…


	3. An Unexpected Appearance

Chapter 3: An Unexpected Appearance

Maybe it was luck, but somehow the hotel room had two separate beds after all. Bakura stared at the extra bed in an annoyed fashion, almost as if he was going to stab it. He thought he'd be relieved. But he wasn't. Had he not been mentally preparing himself in the elevator, while also lost in some sick dream, maybe he would have been relieved. His arousal faded. Or more appropriately, it dropped dead when reality slapped him in the face. What was he thinking anyways? Did he really want Marik that badly? No. Marik was annoying. An idiot. In fact, he didn't even want to be friends. But it was just that damned body. Bakura cursed himself under his breath. It made him feel silly. Weak. Hopeless. He hated it. He was letting some foolish lust cloud his mind. Damn that Marik. Dammit all.

He rubbed his temples. Fate was mocking him somehow. It always does. Always has.

Marik skipped to the edge of his bed and sat on the corner. He bounced himself up and down, as if testing the springiness, before spreading out his arms and falling on the bed. He rolled around in the sheets like a child who was creating their first snow angel, but failing miserably at it. He sneezed as the dust and stray sands on the bed were pushed up into the air. He rolled over and over until he looked like a caterpillar wrapped up in a cocoon. He looked up at the ceiling with dazed eyes, head spinning from the all rolling around.

Bakura smiled slightly. This was enough to make Bakura return to his normal self. Marik was Marik, after all. And just simply being with Marik could make you forget the darkest of things. It was like being around an angel, only a lot louder and more annoying. With Marik around, everything just seemed as it should be, only somehow not at the same time. Annoyed was one thing, but how could anyone feel bad about anything with him?

Bakura sat down on his bed to the right. He had forgotten how sore he felt, being crammed in the compact car for their hour long road trip before it broke down and they ended up in this mess. He twisted his neck to the right and left, cracking it on both sides and letting out a sigh. He was right about the room being small. It hardly fit the two beds, along with a television and small work desk. On the desk were four bags of complimentary teas and coffees. They were probably awfully bad, since anything that was free always was. But that wouldn't stop Bakura from drinking the tea and find it somewhat satisfying.

Marik was right about him feeling sweaty though. Bakura hadn't realized how hot he actually felt until he finally was in a room with some decent air conditioning. A shower would feel good right about now, even though it would probably be hardly warm and short lived. Marik peered up from his bundle of sheets and looked at Bakura and began to speak.

"Bakura?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm hungry."

Bakura rolled his eyes. "It's called room service." He pointed over to the phone sitting on a small menu. They hadn't eaten at all today. They didn't bring anything and just planned to hold over to they got the Marik's so-called secret lair, which had everything they needed. He watched as Marik picked up the small book, eyes widening in excitement as he scrolled its contents. Bakura really wondered what would of happened if Marik hadn't taken his brother's credit card. Then again, he was a thief. He could probably rack of the means for anything if he really needed to. But that was a lot of trouble. And to be quite honest, it would be boring in a town as drab as this.

"I'm going to take a shower," Bakura decided. He pushed himself off the bed and turned to the door of the small bathroom, equipped with a tiny shower and bath.

"Aren't you hungry too?" Marik wondered. But Bakura wasn't hungry. Ryou hardly ate anyways, which is why he was a skinny as a stick. Marik waited for an answer with his head cocked to the left.

"No," he said dryly. Bakura looked away and went into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. Marik shrugged, turning his attention back to the small black book and started to dial something on the phone.

Bakura twisted the knob on the shower all the way to the "h." Surprisingly, the water was actually hot. Then again, they were in the desert after all, so cold water would probably be hard to come by. He looked in the mirror. His hair was twice as messy as it normally was. His locks were tangled in themselves and all over the place. This was one of the reasons he kept it short back when he was alive. But since this wasn't really his body, he figured he might as well let Ryou have some self-respect. He pushed his locks over his head and pulled off his shirt, leaving only the Millennium Ring on the upper part of his body. He was extremely pale, almost opposite of the color of Marik's intensely tanned dark skin. Thin as he was, his ribs were slightly visible through the milky white skin, almost like a skeleton.

But before he could begin to unbutton his pants, he heard something. Something had crashed onto the floor. Bakura hesitated for a moment. It was probably nothing. He figured Marik most likely just clumsily dropped the phone onto the floor. It wouldn't be unusual, so he brushed it off. But before he could continue to think, he heard a loud thump. It sounded like the thumping of a body falling down onto the hard floor. Either Marik was being an idiot, like usual, or something was wrong. But Bakura's body began to move on its own without thinking. The shirtless Bakura flung open the bathroom door and turned toward where Marik had been sitting. He wasn't there anymore.

"Marik?" He called out. There was no response. Bakura slid past his bed quickly and finding him on the floor in between the beds. And what Bakura saw wasn't the work of Marik's idiocy. No, this definitely was not normal.

Marik was on his knees, grabbing the carpeted floor in one hand, while clutching his left eye with the other. His face was flinching, and he looked as if he was in some sort of intense pain. His body began shaking uncontrollably. Bakura looked around the room for the cause of this reaction, but everything else was in order. He looked back to Marik, who wasn't bleeding or anything either. He was fine just seconds ago. What in god's name happened in the minute he went into the bathroom?

Bakura didn't have much time to think anything over though. He went over and pulled Marik's shoulder, trying to make him look him in the eye.

"Marik- what the bloody hell is wrong with you?" Bakura looked for any type of response. But Marik pulled away instantly, letting out a yelp of pain and trying to keep his balance.

"M-Marik…?" Bakura stuttered in uncertainty as he analyzed him. Bakura grabbed his wrist to check his pulse. It was beating at a staggering rate. He'd never seen anything like this happen before. Nor did he know of any certain conditions that Marik had that would cause this. It wasn't quite a seizure, and it didn't appear to be some sort of heart attack. Marik flailed sideways, falling over and hitting the side of the bed. His breathing became more intense and could be heard throughout the enter hotel room. Bakura tried to angle him back onto his feet, but Marik kept slapping away his hands as if it was an instinctive reaction. It appeared that Marik had no idea where he was anymore or that it was Bakura who he was hitting.

"Dammit," Bakura hissed. He felt like there was nothing he could do. "I'm trying to help you, you wanker." He grabbed Marik by the waist and threw him up onto the bed, as gently as possible with still trying to overpower Marik from pushing him back. He sat above the boy who was moaning in agony and tried to hold him down to calm the shaking. It wasn't working. He kept his eyes closed tightly and he grabbed his hair in a desperate grasp.

Marik bit his bottom lip furiously, causing blood to spill out slowly and sink its dark red color into the sheets. "Shit," Bakura cursed. It'll be a lot worse a lot quicker if Marik decides to bite his tongue next. But Bakura couldn't think. There was nothing he could possibly do to get him to stop. He felt as though he could only watch as Marik cringed, opening his mouth as if to scream, with nothing coming out. Nothing but a tear. He started crying harshly, slamming a fist into the mattress. A kick followed.

"Goddammit," Bakura slurred. Was Marik dying? Was this going to be the end of the idiot who spent his days reading yaoi and planning on throwing the Pharaoh a fake birthday party in an awful attempt to do who the hell knows what? Why was this happening? And why now? Damn it! Bakura felt something sink in his body. His heart. His stomach. Everything. He began to panic. For the first time in his life he felt an emotion that didn't seem to exist to him. Fear.

His mind contemplated the worst of the outcomes. What if it was true? What if Marik really was going to die? What was Bakura going to do? What could he do? Nothing. Just nothing. It would be over. No more stupid evil council. No more stupid plans that were a waste of everyone's time. No more constant bickering and whining. No more. No more Marik. Bakura would be free. Free to spend his time doing what he promised he would years before Marik's time. Maybe he would finally do it. He would get the Pharaoh. He would avenge his family. His friends. Everyone. Life would be great…Right? Life would just be so damn great without Marik…

Bakura looked back to the flailing Egyptian. Life would be great… Except for one problem. Life wouldn't be great. Not at all. Not one goddamn bit. Even without the bitching. Even without the failing plans. Even with the Pharaoh long gone and dead for good. It just doesn't seem like it'd mean anything. It's like Bakura just didn't care about any of that stuff. Not right now. Not without Marik. But why? Why?

"Damn you! You're no one! So why should I even care!? And I shouldn't have anything to do with you in the first place! We aren't friends, so stop acting like we are!" Bakura slammed his fist into the bed and scowled furiously at Marik. It was obvious he hadn't heard any of it. He was still crying in the horrific agony. Blood still leaked from his bitten lip and he brought his knees in toward his stomach. He was mouthing words that Bakura couldn't make out. He kicked the air, as if he was fighting someone that wasn't there. His body was sweating, shaking, and all of the above. His veins were visible from his forehead. He yelled a few times, as if trying to plead; Make it stop. Please. Someone. Help.

"Dammit Marik, if you die on me I swear to fucking god, I will murder you! Damn idiot! I hate you so much!" Bakura flung himself off the bed on dove down for the phone that was lying on the floor. They were in Egypt, so it probably wouldn't work. But he didn't think about it. And it was worth a shot anyways. Maybe he can't save Marik, but maybe somebody else can. And if they couldn't, then Bakura would slit their throats open.

He dialed "9" then "1." But before he could dial in the last one, he felt something on the back of his neck. Something cold. Something sharp. The hairs on his neck stood up in reaction. His finger was curled on the button, but there was no way he could press it.

He suddenly noticed that Marik's cries of pain had seized. It was now dead silent. But he couldn't have been dead… Because then who was holding up the knife to Bakura's neck?

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," the voice scoffed. A sinister chuckle followed. It sounded like Marik, but there was no way it could have been. This voice was the voice of darkness itself. A voice of pure evil. And it was way too deep from its usual high pitched and cheerful tone.

Bakura had realized it almost instantly what just happened. He had never seen this happen with his own eyes before. Marik wasn't dying. No. But what was about to go down now could be considered far worse, not only for just Marik and Bakura, but for everyone within a one hundred mile radius.

The man slipped the phone out of Bakura's hands and hung it up. He then dropped the phone on the floor, causing the pad to break off. He kicked it away as well, laughing a sinister tune every second of the way. Bakura didn't fight it. He probably couldn't.

"Mariku," Bakura growled, gritting his teeth. The name was of Marik's evil alter ego; the one created by his father's hatred as he carved in tattoo on his back. He and Marik shared the same body, just the same as Ryou and Bakura did. However, these two weren't exactly on good terms with each other, and they were extremely different. Ryou and Bakura only have suttle differences in appearance, being that Bakura looks rather cold and harsh whereas Ryou looks innocent and cheerful, much like the normal Marik, only less idiotic. But with Mariku and Marik, aside from the drastic spiking of Mariku's hair, their auras were exactly opposites. They were true "Yami and Hikari." Though it was still Marik's body, Marik looked like a child who never grew up. Someone who was always happy and optimistic. A person who truly seemed oblivious to life's cruelty. But not him. Mariku has a crude and devilish look. His eyes were filled with a murderous glow. He could strike his enemies down just with a scowl. Marik's subtle muscle tone bulged out at full capacity as he licked the blood off his lips, enjoying the bitter iron taste.

But this shouldn't be happening. Mariku had been concealed for a while now. It was supposed to be permanent. So how did he get loose? How did he manage to take control of Marik's body after all this time? Why did it happen now?

"Is that what you guys are calling me now?" Mariku smirked. Bakura didn't respond. Mariku twisted his neck in an almost seductive manner, leaving behind a cracking sound that made it seem like his neck had snapped in two. Bakura shifted his eyes to get a look at the knife. It was the hidden blade of the Millennium Rod that could be seen if you twisted off the handle. "Cat got your tongue?"

"No," Bakura growled. But after what he just went through, Mariku can't scare him.

"Good," Mariku snickered, "Now why don't we have a little fun?"

…


	4. The Monster Within

Chapter 4: The Monster Within

There was only one thing Bakura could think of. He always kept a knife around with him where ever he went, just in case. And luckily, he hadn't removed his trousers off just before Mariku showed up, leaving his small pocket knife where it should be; in his back pocket. But with the Millennium Rod to his neck at the moment, it seemed hopeless that he would be able to draw it. But even if he did draw the blade, that wouldn't be enough. There was no way Bakura would be able to use it. Moreover, he couldn't. If he dealt any physical damage to Mariku, he'd be dealing it to his body; Marik's body. And any wounds Mariku received in that body, would be dealing the wound to Marik as well. So in the end, the knife can be nothing more than a defence mechanism. Things weren't looking too bright for Bakura.

"And what did you have in mind?" Bakura replied dryly. He turned his neck slightly, just barely avoiding his neck being pierced by the blade, and now stared directly into Mariku's eyes. They were a cold violet and filled with a twisted sense of excitement, the exact opposite of Marik's innocent and puppy dog like eyes. He looked down to his torso to see him in Marik's small purple shirt. If Bakura hadn't known any better, he would have a hard time taking someone who looked so evil seriously in clothing like that. Mariku's shrieking laugh echoed in the dark hotel room. The only source of light was a dim lamp on the work table, which made the Millennium Ring around Bakura's bare chest seem to glow. It was only the first night in this hell hole, and Bakura was already questioning if he would make it out of this alive. Although this time it wasn't just his sanity at stake.

"How about a game?" He cackled.

"A shadow game?"

"What else?" Mariku laughed. Bakura noticed him retracting the Millennium Rod from his neck slightly. This was good. Bakura knew full well it didn't matter whether he lost a shadow game or not. As long his soul was still bound to the Millennium Ring, he could revive himself a countless amount of times. As long as he had a host, his soul would return. however, he didn't return right away, it was after a certain period of time. Mariku was different, however. He wasn't an ancient soul bound to the secret powers of a Millennium item. He was just a psycho alternative being whose existence feeds on the darkness of others. And in this case, it was Marik, however small that darkness inside him may be. Mariku probably doesn't know of Bakura's circumstance, so all he needed to do was to sell his story. Perfect.

"But why would you do that?" Bakura lied, "You already have a knife to my neck. Why not just finish the job now and be done with it? Why give me a chance?" Mariku didn't need time to think. His grin widened even further.

"You're a villain too, are you not? You should know it'd be more fun that way," Mariku finally retracted the Millennium rod. He ran the flat part of the blade against his tongue before twisting the handle back into place. Bakura gave a sinister smile back, turning to face Mariku.

"So then, what will the stakes be?" Bakura knew though. Their souls would be the stakes. That's how it always was. And it was perfect. This was exactly the best way he could get rid of Mariku's soul without harming Marik in any way. And if on the off chance he loses this game, he would still be able to return. This was the best possible situation it could be.

Marik looked down at the Millennium Rod. He twisted it slightly, letting the dim light gleam off of it and glow. He shuffled it back into the back loop of his belt, where Marik normally kept it and occasionally forgot it was there. Then, he looked up toward the ceiling, as if thinking. Bakura was wondering what was taking him so long to respond now. A slight feeling of uneasiness flowed through Bakura. Just say it already. They would bed their souls.

Mariku shot him a fierce glance before continuing to snicker.

"How about our other souls?" Mariku sneered. Bakura froze.

"W-what?" Bakura couldn't help but stammer. He shouldn't have been shocked, but he was. He didn't expect that at all. Mariku was referring to the souls that resided within them; their "Hikari's" soul; Ryou and Marik's. Bakura clenched his fist and gritted his teeth. That was bad. That wasn't the bet he was anticipating. Moreover, that was a bet he couldn't risk. There was no way he could risk losing Ryou or Marik's soul. He would never forgive himself if he lost either one. His win-win scenario turned into a lose-lose situation. And win or lose, Mariku would still be in control of Marik. But how could he get out of the shadow game with Mariku? There weren't any other options. Bakura knew for a fact can't turn the tables on Mariku with physical force. Not that he was weaker, but because he can't lay a finger on Mariku because he'd be hurting Marik. So it'd be pointless to try a physical assault instead. But if he played, he would regret it. So he just couldn't. Wouldn't. Won't. Technically, Mariku couldn't force him to play, since Bakura had his own shadow powers he could use the cancel the game out. But without a counter, there was no way Mariku wouldn't let him play. He'd kill him. And Bakura wouldn't be able to fight back. He'd be helpless. And though his soul could return in a host once more after a certain amount of time, Ryou would be dead. And it was also possible Mariku would also find a way to destroy Marik's soul after that. Mariku was clever and he would more than likely figure out a way how to in the end. Bakura cursed in his mind. Playing the game was the only real smart thing he could do, that way, only one person would have to die. But that's still more one person dead that he won't accept. He was trapped between a rock and a hard place, and on top of that was another hard place. There was no clear solution to this issue.

_"It's okay. I don't mind. Lose on purpose, that way only I have to go,"_ a voice softly whispered. Bakura knew this voice well. It was Ryou. He turned his gaze over to the left side of the room, where Ryou had taken his spirit form. Only Bakura was able to see and hear him in this form, being his "second" soul. It was rare for Ryou to ever come out of his soul room when Bakura was in control of his body, at least, if it wasn't to scold him over something. Ryou was like one of those angels that hang out on your shoulder and try to convince you to do the right thing. A lot of times, Bakura just wished he could swat him off. But there he was, smiling back at him just like his innocent self.

But Bakura knew better. How could Ryou smile at him when he just basically agreed to selling his soul?

"Don't you get it?" Bakura spat. He dug his nails into the palm of his hands. What else could he do? "You'll lose your soul. There is no second chance. You'll die!"

Mariku looked up curiously to the apparent no one he was yelling at.

"So, you can speak to him? My, my, now that's interesting," Mariku chuckled. He and Marik were never able to exchange lines to one another. That was probably for the better though, at least in Marik's case. Bakura shot a dirty glance at the giggly Mariku, then back to Ryou.

_"He's your friend, so you have to play for him."_

"We're not friends! And don't you get it? If I win, then he's the one that loses anyways. So it doesn't matter. And that I'm not letting you throw your life away for that idiot either."

_"But you care about him very much. He means more to you than I do."_

"That's not true," Bakura retaliated. "Stop trying to be a damn hero or something."

_"It is true, Bakura. Even if you won't admit it. Or you wouldn't have been so concerned about him earlier, would you have? I'm not a child. I can make my own decisions, and I don't need you to keep protecting me. Besides, what have I ever done to earn your protection? You said once yourself we were enemies."_

"Y-you don't know what you're saying! And I was only concerned because- because…" Bakura paused. He couldn't think of an answer. He didn't understand why he cared so much about Marik. Why did he freak out so badly? It just sort of…Happened…"And if we are enemies, then why the bloody hell are you helping me? And helping Marik? He's not on your side either." Bakura snapped. Ryou was always like this. He just couldn't stand it. He was so pure and innocent it made him sick sometimes. But Ryou continued to smile at Bakura. Mariku yawned.

_"Do what your heart tells you to," _Ryou finished, still smiling.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Bakura barked. But Ryou disappeared again, going back into his soul room. Bakura hissed a curse at him, which Ryou probably heard, but still ignored it. Damn that Ryou. What kind of fool would throw away his soul for a practical stranger? He could yammer on all he wants, but there was still no way Bakura could go through with this shadow game. He had to think. And fast. But what? Mariku had the upper hand after all. In fact, it was written all over the guy's face. He needed to think of the facts.

Fact 1: He had to accept the shadow game. As long as Mariku had shadow powers as well, Bakura couldn't do anything in his power to waver the costs. Their powers cancel each other out. Mariku can't force a game on him without his consult, because Bakura can cancel it out with his, and vice-versa. But if Bakura did cancel out the shadow game, which he could with his shadow powers, Mariku would just kill him, along with Ryou and Marik, in a different means. So technically, no, he couldn't be "forced." Not the same type of force they could do with a normal victim. But in the end, he was being forced after all.

But wait- maybe that's just it? Neither of them can force a shadow game on each other, because both of them held the power of the shadows. But Mariku isn't an ancient spirit. He can't create a shadow game at will like Bakura could. His powers came from the Millennium Rod. Which means, if he didn't have the Millennium Rod, he didn't have shadow powers. And if he didn't have shadow powers, Bakura could force a shadow game on him in his stakes. The stake that he originally thought he was going to take. A stake of Bakura's and Mariku's soul. Without the rod, Mariku would have to play, otherwise he'd take a penalty game and lose his soul anyways. And like before, Bakura can't technically die as long as his soul is bound to the Millennium Ring, so even if he lost, he could return, and hopefully in time to still stop Mariku from harming Ryou. Then, he could force another game on him, and the cycle would repeat until he eventually lost.

Bakura realized it. That was how he could defeat Mariku. But there was still one problem. One key. How could he get the Millennium Rod away from Mariku? He couldn't hurt Marik's body, so it didn't seem highly likely that he would be able to take it from him with ease. The way Mariku is, he wouldn't let the thing go with just a few harmless punches and kicks. No, he wouldn't let it go until he was dead on the ground. But maybe, just maybe, if he took him by surprise, he would let his guard down long enough for Bakura to snatch it. But how could he do that?

Then, Bakura remembered. He had a knife in his back pocket that Mariku didn't know about. So he did have one element of surprise. And although he can't use it on Mariku, Mariku probably didn't know that. If he went at Mariku with the intent to kill, he probably wouldn't risk being injured on the slim chance he believed Bakura wouldn't be willing to hurt Marik. Bakura would never take that risk when it came to himself. So maybe Mariku wouldn't either. Not to mention, his body will most likely react on its own without Mariku having the time to think these things through.

But it was still a long shot. A very long shot. But Bakura had an idea. And just maybe, maybe for once in his life, his plan will actually work out. He turned to Mariku, trying to keep on his mask that looked like he would accept his challenge, no matter how much he didn't want to.

"Shall we get started?" Mariku smirked. Bakura scowled at him. Mariku began reaching for the rod behind his back. He wrapped his hand around it, and began to pull it out.

Now was Bakura's chance. His only chance.

Bakura quickly dove into his back pocket for his knife. It was there, just as it should be. He immediately pulled the trigger on the hilt to release the blade out. This was it. He would plunge himself and the blade at Mariku. Mariku would have no choice but to dodge it. And when Mariku was off balance, he could grab the rod from his hand, relieving him of the ability to counter Bakura's shadow game. Yes, it was a long shot. But it was worth a try, right? Bakura threw the knife overhead and aimed in between Mariku's eyes sockets. Bakura smirked in confidence, showing full intent that he would stab him if necessary. He had to dodge. There was no other choice. He wasn't that insane to take a knife to the face and bleed to death. No. Definitely not. He would dodge. But was Bakura sure? No- he just had to pray. That's all he could do.

It was like a slow motion scene in an action film. Mariku stood there, slightly stunned, as the knife moved closer and closer in to his face. It seemed to be working. He was shocked- he would dodge- Bakura would take the rod as he did- then force a shadow game in his favour- then Mariku would have to play- and lose.

But then-…

Mariku smirked, just as cockily as Bakura. The knife was almost at his face, but Mariku remained a statue. Unmoving. As the knife got closer, his grin grew wider. Bakura's smirk faded. The knife was almost there. Why wasn't Mariku moving? Why? Was he really just going to let himself be killed? Or did he see through Bakura's lie? Did he know he wasn't going to hurt Marik? Maybe he was bluffing himself? Bakura continued to plunge forward. He put his smile back on, he had to fool him. If he didn't dodge- if he couldn't take the rod… It was over for someone.

Move. Come on. Dodge the knife. Why won't he move? He was an inch away now form Mariku's face. One inch from killing Mariku… And one inch from killing Marik. One inch. He just- wasn't going to move, was he? It looked more like he was daring him to stab him. The cruel grin on his face said it all…

It looked like someone was going to die after all…

Bakura abruptly stopped, only millimeters from Mariku's face. He had to stop. It was Marik's body. He couldn't really stab him. He never was going to. But Mariku stood there. Unfazed. Unafraid. Enjoying the scene. Licking his lips as he dared Bakura to strike him down. Mariku started to laugh. Bakura's hand shook in fury. He lost. He didn't dodge. He couldn't get the rod. That was his one chance. It didn't work. Mariku stood, laughing. Mocking him. Dammit. It just wasn't fair.

"Did you honestly believe you were capable of hurting this body?" Mariku scoffed. His laughter roared through the room. He licked his lips widely, like an animal licked their chops before a meal. Mariku took his finger and pushed the knife from between his eye sockets. He even ran his index finger on the blade, piercing lightly through his skin. Bakura didn't fight back. He couldn't. He knew it from the start. Mariku took the knife from his hands and dropped it to the floor. Bakura gritted his teeth as hard as he could. He was powerless. Mariku continued to laugh.

"You and I both know that you can't hurt this body," he sneered, pointing at himself. Mariku undid the zipper on Marik's violet shirt, letting it fall to the ground and leave his bare chest to catch the dim light. His chest was just as sleek and tan as the rest of his body. His abs were muscular and durable with just the right proportions. His skin had no imperfection whatsoever. It was perfect. Marik's body was always perfect. Mariku then began unbuttoning his pants in a seductive manner. He grabbed the Millennium Ring around Bakura's neck and pulled him viciously toward him until both of their bare chests were touching each other, holding him there in a tight grip.

"W-what the hell?" Bakura spat, trying to push himself away. But Mariku's grip was too tight. He felt the string attached to the Millennium Ring burning against his neck as Mariku yanked tightly on it. Bakura tried to squirm out, but Mariku slammed him down against the wall and locked his leg in.

"Don't play innocent with me," Mariku snickered in a seductive tone, "I know all about your sick fantasies you dream of with this body." He grabbed Bakura by the neck, angling him to force him to look Mariku in the eye while also suffocating him at the same time. "Marik might not understand, but I've been here all this time. Watching." He pressed their bodies so tightly together that Bakura felt like they were both going to snap in half at the pressure.

"B-bastard-" He tried once again to squirm out of his grip, but Mariku had him pinned in a tight clutch.

"You love this body don't you? You want it, don't you? Badly. Am I wrong? That's why you won't hurt it. You can't stand to damage the body you desire with a lustful passion. The body you dream of banging at night. That's why I win, and you lose. It's not Marik who you don't want to hurt; it's just his body you want. You don't care for the boy at all. How pathetic… And to think he called you his friend?" Mariku laughed louder than ever. "How cruel. But why don't I let you have a taste of your dirty fantasies? I'll be happy to give you what you want." Mariku licked lightly just below Bakura's ear. He curled his tongue in a circular motion and let his warm breathe seep out onto Bakura's neck. He took his free hand and jammed it harshly down the front Bakura's pants. His hand was inside of his boxers, brushing over his and rubbing crotch seductively. Mariku made a growling sound as his hand motions became faster and rougher.

A chill ran up Bakura's spine. His mind screamed to get away. Get out. This guy was insane. He was telling lies. That's all he ever does. But he also felt his body reacting differently than his mind. His legs became numb and jelly like. His tense muscles became relaxed. And he felt another certain part of himself become hard and stiff.

But it wasn't true. It just couldn't be. It was Marik he wanted to save, not just his body. It was Marik he didn't want to hurt, not just his body. Yes, he did desire it on multiple occasions. And yes, Marik was annoying. Yes, he had said he didn't want to be friends. Yes, he did fantasize and have extremely sensual and stimulating dreams about him and Marik. But he wasn't using him. Not for his body. He would never do that. Because for some unexplainable reason in Bakura's mind, the sad truth was that when he thought Marik was dying, he couldn't imagine his life without the goddamn idiot. He didn't want to imagine it without Marik. A part of him felt like he needed Marik. A part of him liked that goofy smile he puts on. He liked going on the worthless adventures to destroy the Pharaoh. He liked arguing over and over and over with him day in and day out. He liked that damn annoying voice and his over the top anime reactions to everything. He liked his simple mindedness and ability to deny the most obvious of accusations. And when he thought Marik was about to die, he felt something inside him about to die as well.

Why? Why? Why in all his years of living, even though he really wasn't alive, did he have to care for anyone so much? He promised himself to never let anyone enter his heart, not after having everyone in his life stripped away from him because of the Pharaoh. He swore he'd only focus on his revenge, and nothing more. But Marik, that idiot, somehow found a place in his black heart that he never thought existed. And it didn't matter why anymore; it never mattered why, because this was how he felt. He couldn't help it. He just did.

And in all those dreams that he shouldn't have been having, it was Marik who was in his body. Not Mariku. Marik was the one in control. Not this, insane psychopath. It's the same body… The same tan lines. The same markings under his eyes. The same midriff that he was forced to look at almost every day of his life since he met Marik. But it's not the same. It's not the same at all. And if it wasn't truly Marik, then he didn't want his body. He didn't want any of it. Even if his body suggested otherwise.

"I have a better idea than a shadow game," Mariku whispered in his ear. He dug his nails into Bakura's shoulder and threw him violently on the bed next to them and slid on top of him. But Bakura wasn't going to back down now. He wasn't just going to let this creep get his way with him. It might be Marik's body, but screw it. This guy crossed the line. Bakura wasn't going to let him win.

"Sorry Marik," Bakura mumbled. He threw a punch with all his force at Mariku's jaw. He hit him directly. Blood began to seep out from Mariku's mouth, but he didn't flinch. He just smiled and licked up the blood while throwing himself at back Bakura. He pinned Bakura's arms down, but Bakura used his knee to jab him in the stomach. Mariku cringed a little, and Bakura freed one of his hands and grabbed Mariku's neck. Mariku countered by grabbing his wrist, twisting it finely, almost breaking it with sheer force. But now Bakura had his other hand free. He pulled away from Mariku's neck and shoved him onto his side. Bakura locked their legs together, pinning him down from his waist below. He was on top now.

"So you wanted to get rough?" Bakura slurred, trying to hold Mariku down. Mariku smirked back and tossed him upward, causing him to lose his balance, and Mariku then began to wrestle him over control again. Bakura elbowed him in the jaw again, but Mariku grabbed the Millennium Ring, and used the needles attached to it to rip through the skin on Bakura's stomach, and then tore it clean off of him. They weren't deep wounds, but they still bled. And they still stung.

Shit. Without the Millennium Ring on, after a certain amount of time, control over his body would revert back to Ryou, and Bakura would be sent back into the ring. He needed to end this now. If Ryou were to gain control now, Mariku would definitely get his way. Ryou wouldn't have a chance. And with Ryou, it would be a lot worse; he'd be more than just scarred for life.

Bakura grabbed both of Mariku's wrists and kicked him in the rib cage. Mariku was still smirking and unwavering. He slammed his forehead into that of Bakura's, causing both of them to begin bleeding. The blood ran down their forehead, to their cheeks, and dripped down their necks. Bakura ignored it, letting go of Mariku's wrists and throwing another punch at his face. He hit him. But Mariku continued laughing as he slammed his weight back onto Bakura. They both tumbled to the floor with a huge thump. Bakura's head slammed violently into the ground as he tried to move away. But Mariku pinned both his arms and legs this time.

"Going somewhere?" Mariku cackled. Bakura's eye twitched at an intense pain in his lower back. A pool of warm liquid was flowing under the sharp pain. He had landed on his knife that Mariku had tossed away earlier and it was penetrating his skin.

"F-fuck you," Bakura spat some blood into his eyes. Mariku cringed, releasing some of the tension of his grip. It was enough for Bakura to kick him upwards. He pulled both him and Mariku up and slammed Mariku into the side of the other bed. He grabbed the knife on the floor and shoved it at his neck, with just little enough force so that it didn't pierce him. Mariku scowled, but then grinned again.

"You wouldn't."

"I would."

"So then you really don't care about the boy, after all?"

"Shut up. I'm doing this because I care."

"A fool's excuse. He'll die along with me. You won't do it."

"I will. But don't worry. Marik will survive. I know for a fact he's a lot stronger than you. He suppressed you for this long, and he'll do it again." But Bakura was bluffing. He wanted to believe that Marik would survive if he did anything to Mariku... But it was just too unlikely. Maybe if he lied enough, he would figure out some way to stop it. He could only pray.

Mariku laughed. "Stronger than me? Don't make me laugh. The only reason he could suppress me was because he had help. Besides, that fool is in the shadows. You can't reach him. No matter what you do. I've made sure of that."

"Help?"

"Like I'd tell you."

"You're not exactly in a position for snide remarks."

"Then do it. Or are you scared?"

"Shut up!" Bakura yelled. He was scared. He was... But he had no choice. He just couldn't think of a way to save Marik... Maybe there was no other way...

"Do it!"

"I said shut up! I won't let Marik be controlled by someone like you anymore!" Bakura pulled the knife back and went in for the kill. This was it. He was really going to do it. If he couldn't save him, then the least he could do was stop this insane psychopath from controlling him. A tear welled up in one of Bakuras eyes. This was the only way. Sorry Marik…

"You fool!" Mariku yelled. Mariku had no doubts he was really going to do it this time. But he still had one trick up his sleeve. Mariku smirked. He waiting until the knife was less than a second from his neck. It was time. Mariku pulled his last ace in the hole. Suddenly, his hair fell back down to its original state. His eyes glowed of lifelessness, and then beamed back with a look of confusion. A look of fear. It was Marik. Mariku relieved control and switched back to Marik at the last moment.

"Die, you basta-!" Bakura's eyes widened. Shit. Shit. Shit. He realized it was Marik now, but- but it was too late. He couldn't stop his arm. There was no way he could come to an abrupt stop this time. He was going too fast. He was about to slash the throat of Marik. Not Mariku. The innocent Marik. The one he was trying to save. The one who called him his friend. That one. He was about to kill him in cold blood.

The tear that was welled up fell from his face.

That was the first time he had let himself cry since he witnessed his family being slaughtered before his eyes.

…The knife fell…

…


	5. Wounds and Scars

Chapter 5: Wounds and Scars

The knife fell. But it didn't fall to slash open Marik's neck. No. The knife fell down to the floor, just before Marik became nearly decapitated.

Marik was frozen and shaking. He was in too much shock to feel the pain in his jaw and stomach. What in the world just happened? He can't remember anything after he and Bakura went up to the hotel room. He remembered Bakura saying something about taking a shower… But then nothing. It was blank, as if part of his memory had been erased. He looked up.

"Ba-Bakura…?" Marik manage to get out. He gasped in shock when he looked over to the white haired boy, who was also shaking viciously. He was covered in blood. The boy looked up in confusion and disarray at Marik.

"N-no…" he stuttered. He then looked to his hands that were covered in blood. His back was also still dripping from where the knife had cut him open as well as the scratches on his stomach. His face cringed in agony. He let out a small yelp and continued to shiver furiously. "I-I'm R-Ryou…"

"Ryou…?" Marik looked down to the bloody knife of the floor. That's right. He was sure he saw Bakura coming at him with the knife. It was definitely Bakura, not Ryou. He had only ever talked to Ryou once, but he knew the difference. But why? Why was Bakura coming at him with a knife? Was he trying to kill him? No… That couldn't be it. Bakura's face looked just as shocked as his. And if he recalled right, he even saw a tear… But, wait, a tear? Then, could it have really been Bakura? Bakura would never cry… Would he?

But the pain quickly caught up to Marik and interrupted his thoughts. He grabbed his stomach and moaned. His jaw felt like it was going to explode, and he felt a little blood run down his cheek. His forehead ached in a screeching and sharp sting. He glanced back at Ryou. He was in a lot worse shape. He was panting heavily and gasping for air, and there was blood everywhere. Marik had a few cuts, but for the most part wasn't bleeding. "What's going on…"

"I-I don't know…" Ryou winced, "I was- in my soul room…-W-wait… I was talking to Bakura…- Earlier- B-because… -M-Mariku…" Ryou coughed up some blood.

"What? M-Mariku…?" Marik looked at him in shock. Mariku. Mariku was the name of his alter ego. The last time he had transformed into him was years ago. He killed his father and almost Ishizu and Rishid as well. The only reason he didn't kill them all was because Rishid somehow suppressed him. But Mariku was never supposed to be able to take control of his body ever again… Why did he transform? Marik felt his heart sink. "Y-you mean... I-I did-" Marik looked back down at the knife. It was starting to make more sense…

"B-Bakura… Probably knows what- what happened… I-I don't sense him, though… Where's th-the Millennium Ring…?" Ryou coughed. He felt like he was about to pass out from blood loss any second now.

"Don't talk!" Marik cried. He looked around for the ring. His body was shaking and in pain. He spotted it lying on the floor in a corner. He crawled over, trying to ignore the pain, and snatched the ring up. He crawled back over to the panting Ryou and tied the torn strings around his neck.

The ring glowed brightly, causing Marik to squint his eyes. Ryou's expression became blank for a moment before returning back. Two stubs on Ryou's hair poked upward, almost like kitty ears.

"M-Marik…Are you okay?" Bakura panted, shifting his body toward the Egyptian. His eye was twitching and stinging. He felt the blood slowly seeping out of him. He was light headed, and his vision was blurry. He tried to keep himself focused on Marik, who began to cry viciously.

"I-I'm so sorry, Bakura-" Marik wept, tears flowing quickly down his cheek and onto the floor. "I was the one- who did this right? To Ryou- To you… Y-your bleeding- we need to get you to a hospital- B-befo-before…"

Bakura pushed himself over, falling lightly on Marik. He let his chin rest on Marik's shoulder, trying to keep his balance from falling over completely, as their bodies gently draped over one another. Bakura had stopped shaking, embracing Marik's warmth. Marik looked to him in shock.

"Stop crying, Marik… You're not the one who did this to me." He mumbled softly, trying to ignore the pain.

"B-but- Yes I am! Even if it was Mariku… It was still my fault-! I-I…Y-your dying…B-Bakura…"

"No- I'm not dying. But you might want to shut your mouth for once and wrap a sheet around this wound before I really do. Moron." Bakura pointed out. Marik was still crying, but he nodded his head. He pushed himself forward and grabbed one of the bed sheets. Bakura tried not to moan from the pain as Marik pushed against his body. He took the sheet and placed pressure on his back and tied it around his waist, also covering up the stomach wounds. It wouldn't do much good for long, but it was sure a lot better than nothing. And since the wounds weren't all that deep, this would do just fine for now.

"I'm sorry…" Marik sobbed.

"Stop apologizing. You're two different people. You're not the one who did anything. So stop crying now. You look like an idiot." Bakura sighed, but he slightly smiled to himself. He was just glad Marik was alright in the end. If Mariku hadn't removed the ring- and if control over his body didn't switch back to Ryou at the exact moment that it did… Marik more than likely would be dead right now. Mariku had them. He knew Bakura wouldn't be able to stop. But maybe, after all, luck was somehow on his side.

"Just promise me you won't turn back into that wanker for a while… I think I'm already pretty banged up as it is," Bakura remarked somewhat sarcastically. He turned his head to the right, facing away from Marik, while he still rested his head on his bare shoulder.

"…O-okay," Marik sighed. That was the first time Bakura ever heard Marik sigh or speak in such a depressing tone. He turned his head over to the left and flicked Marik on the forehead. "Ow!" Marik yelped. His forehead had still been pounding from earlier, "W-what was that for?!" Marik said, returning to his normal high pitched tone.

"Didn't I tell you to stop moping? Go back to being an idiot, it's much more attractive."

"What?" Marik slightly blushed.

"Nothing." Bakura turned his head back around and looked away. He hesitated slightly. "Sorry about your body. It probably hurts."

Marik blinked in shock at him. Bakura was acting strange, but he couldn't really say he didn't like it. Marik looked down and smiled slightly to himself. Even with all that just happened, finding out he had turned into Mariku and almost killing Bakura, Bakura made him feel comfortable, as if it really wasn't his fault. It reminded him of how Rishid made him feel after the first time he had transformed. He felt safe now, like Mariku wouldn't be able to harm anyone anymore. He felt like he had the strength to keep him away again. Maybe Bakura was right, and they really were two different people after all. Bakura didn't blame him one bit, so maybe he should stop blaming himself as well.

Marik slightly giggled. "It's alright. I'm so sexy that a few measly bruises won't matter."

Bakura smiled to himself as Marik returned to his normal self. The sheet around his body has absorbed all the extra blood and his wounds had stopped leaking out more for now. He felt weak, but he would be alright.

"Do me a favour," Bakura asked. Marik cocked his head.

"Yeah?"

"Help me onto the bed. I think I'm going to sleep these wounds off," Bakura said. His body was exhausted, as well as his mind. He ached in pain, but right now he didn't really feel much of it anymore as he lay in Marik's arms. Besides, he's felt worse, since he sort of died once before. And even though Bakura was in control of the body, Ryou probably still felt the tingling of the pain he had felt in the brief moment he was in control before Marik tied the ring around his neck.

"Okay," Marik chuckled. He turned around and pulled one of Bakura's arms over his shoulder to hold on up. Bakura cringed a little, but got to his feet with Marik helping him up. He shifted them over to the bed and gentle sat Bakura down. Bakura scooted over to the middle of the bed, which was a wreck considering his tussle with Mariku. He gently unwrapped the blood stained sheet and tossed it aside to the floor. Marik watched him in curiosity, seeing his pale bare body in the dim lighting of the hotel room. He slowly lowered himself on his side, trying not to put pressure on any cuts and reopening them. He gently laid his head on the stiff hotel pillow and groaned.

Bakura peered up at Marik, who was sitting with his back turned to him on the bed. The light shun dimly on the scar that was on his back. It was like a work of art. And although the way he got the tattoo was rather ugly, it truly was beautiful. The markings were aligned perfectly, without a single misplaced character. It wasn't painful looking, like Bakura's scar on his eye had been back when he was alive. There was no skin trying to regrow itself, creating a strange an unnatural looking color or anything like that. No, it was perfect. Almost like a god had drawn it there.

Marik began to sit up to let Bakura go to sleep, but Bakura grabbed his wrist. Marik looked to him, startled.

"B-Bakura?" Marik looked back to him, slightly blushing, making it almost invisible on his darkly tanned skin.

"I didn't say you could leave. You're still compensating me for the wounds you gave me." Bakura smirked. Marik gave him his usual pouting face.

"Oh, so now you're blaming me, huh?" Marik replied sarcastically. He looked to Bakura, who looked back at him and closed his eyes.

"Just stay there," Bakura grumbled, opened his eyes back up to roll them, then closed them once more. Marik smiled. He scooted himself back over and sat next to Bakura as he lay on the bed and watched as he began to fall alseep. Marik reached over and turned the small desk lamp off, darkening the room completely.

Marik stayed by Bakura's side until he was finally asleep. But Marik was exhausted as well. He clumsily laid himself down and fell asleep next to Bakura without even realizing it.

And so, the first day of being stranded in this hell hole had finally come to an end…

…


	6. How Do You Know?

Chapter 6: How Do You Know?

Bakura woke up first, his head still spinning from the night before. The pain in his back and stomach was still present, but it didn't feel nearly as painful as before. He felt the cool morning draft tingle on his ear and brush softly through his white mane. He began to slowly open his eyes, squinting at the bright desert sun that peeked through the blinds of the window. The clock on the work desk read eight a.m. as Bakura yawned sleepily and stretched out his arms. He felt a warm sensation brush against him as he stretched.

Stunned, he turned his body over, now laying on his left side and facing the other side of the room. The source of the warmth was another body; Marik, who had fallen asleep next to Bakura while he waited for him to sleep. Bakura examined him. He slept curled up on his side. His facial expression was cringed slightly, as if he was cold.

Normally, Bakura would wake him up and demand him to get out of his bed, afraid of being tempted by that body of his. But not today. He felt no crude thoughts appear in his head. No. Right now he felt something else. He felt the need to embrace his comfort and give his own in return, remembering how close he was to losing him yesterday.

Bakura shifted his blankets over onto Marik, so that they were now both under the same covers. He watched as Marik's tense face became more relaxed as he felt the warmth over his body. Bakura didn't stop there; he also offered him his own warmth and scooted by him, wrapping his arms around the slender boy's body.

Marik subconsciously pressed his face lightly into Bakura's chest, almost as if he was accepting his presence. Bakura smiled to himself and closed his eyes once more. He felt a strange warmness in his chest, and it wasn't just because Marik has his faced buried in it and had his breath tingling down Bakura's torso. His entire body felt lightweight the two laid there, and he felt truly relaxed.

Part of him wanted them to stay that way for the rest of the day. But for now, he would enjoy it while it lasted.

Marik pressed his face further into Bakura's chest, while beginning to stretch out his legs and yawning sleepily. He slowly began to lift his head up toward Bakura's, opening his eyes.

"B-Bakura…?" Marik stuttered. He began to blush furiously, finding himself in his arms as he awoke. Bakura glanced down at the obviously flustered Marik, seeing the redness pierce through his dark tan. If Bakura wasn't so proud, he might have dared to call him cute.

"Oh? You're awake now," Bakura sighed somewhat sarcastically and removed his grip from Marik's warm body. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't disappointed. Marik, however, was still frozen in shock and disarray. "It would appear that you fell asleep in my bed." Bakura said dryly on purpose to tease him.

"O-oh…" Marik mumbled softly. He looked away from Bakura, trying not to meet his dark chocolate eyes. He couldn't think of anything to say. He shifted his gaze around in confusion and in nervousness. Bakura smiled. He had his fun. But that doesn't mean he couldn't have a little more, did it?

He propped himself on his elbow and grabbed Marik by the nose, not too hard, and forced him to look up at him.

"Well jeeze, if it was such an inconvenience for you to sleep with me then just say so. I mean, it's practically written all over your face," Bakura said pretending to be offended, knowing Marik wouldn't be able to tell the difference. Bakura let go of his nose and made another offended gesture to top it all off.

"W-wha? N-no! It's not that-!" Marik protested, "I-I just-" Marik started to scoot away, as if he was being backed into a corner somehow. That is, until he ran out of mattress to scoot on, and fell clean off the bed onto the floor with a loud thump. Bakura looked at him in disbelief, and couldn't help but to burst out laughing.

Marik shot up, still flustered, and watched as Bakura laughed mockingly at him.

"D-don't laugh at my near death experience, Bakura! I could have died!" Marik retaliated in his normal high pitched tone. He looked to Bakura in a pout with puppy-dog like eyes.

"Of course you could have," Bakura scoffed. Marik's blush faded as he gave Bakura a dirty glare.

"Just shut the 'eff up!" Marik grabbed the pillow from the other bed and hurled it at him. However, he somehow managed to miss completely. "It wasn't that funny!" Bakura finally calmed his laughter and looked back at Marik, who was still pouting away at him with his bottom lip slightly puckered.

"Okay, okay," Bakura smirked, "I'm sorry you're such an idiot." Marik ignored his last comment.

"Anyways, it's not that I didn't like sleeping with you," Marik paused to think, "It's just that it doesn't really matter to me, since I'm totally straight, of course!" Marik deemed proudly. Bakura rolled his eyes. He'd never believe that in his life. Marik was anything and everything but straight, and everyone knew it. He can deny it all he wants, but it'll never be the truth.

"Right," Bakura scoffed and raised himself from the bed. He stretched out his arms and cracked his neck both ways. He looked down at his stomach. His wounds looked like they were sealed up. As long as he didn't do anything too vigorous, they shouldn't open up again. Marik studied his pale body curiously as Bakura stood up from the bed and looked around for his shirt, then remembered it was still in the bathroom and went to go grab it.

Marik then began to stretch out his body as well by touching his toes a couple times. He felt sore, but aside from a small bump on his head and a cut or two on his finger, he was fine. Bakura glanced at Marik as he returned back into his cheery and carefree self and rummaged through the bag of clothing he had bought the previous day. Bakura had no reason to believe that Mariku would, or even could, return anytime soon, let alone at all. Then again, it was also strange that he had appeared in the first place.

Bakura slid on his shirt and walked back out into the hotel room. Marik turned to him and glared at him in an appalled manner.

"You can't go around wearing those, Bakura! You're pants are covered in blood!" Marik cried, pointing to the brownish-reddish stains on his pants. "I mean, I know you probably don't care, but I have to be seen with you!"

"That's great, Marik. But you're right, I don't care." Bakura remarked, slightly smirking. Marik pounced up and threw a pair of white jeans at his face. Surprisingly, they actually weren't that tight looking, considering it was Marik who bought them. Then again, how much tight clothing can someone find at a rugged old shop that sold Egyptian-like clothing?

"Have some self-respect and put those on!" Marik demanded. Bakura rolled his eyes, but it could have been worse.

"If it'll get you to shut up for thirty seconds than fine," Bakura replied. Marik scowled at him, but then turned back to his bag.

It was a little odd. Everything had seemingly gone back to the way it was before. If Bakura hadn't known any better, it was almost as if yesterday had never happened. Marik was his normal self, and so was Bakura. There are some things Bakura would like to forget about yesterday, but then again, there are also some things he wouldn't be able to forget for some time now. He looked back to Marik.

But something was strange with Marik. He wasn't smiling like an idiot like he was five seconds ago. Although, he still looked somewhat idiotic with his puppy-dog eyes. He was staring intensely at the ground with a pouting face. He looked almost like a child does when someone tells them they have a secret, but they won't tell them what the secret is. Bakura raised an eyebrow as Mark shifted his gaze back and forth. What in the world was he doing? Bakura walked over, which Marik didn't even seem to notice. He crouched down next to him and looked to where he was staring. But there was nothing there.

"Marik?" Bakura waved his hand in from of his face, but Marik didn't budge or notice at all. He could probably cut off a piece of his hair without him noticing in the concentration that he was in. Bakura snickered a little at the thought, knowing how absolutely pissed off Marik would be. He was always so proud of his looks, and his hair was included with that. Then again, he did have something to be proud of when it came to looks. Bakura kept staring at him.

"Bakura!" Marik suddenly called out, as if Bakura wasn't sitting right next to him. Bakura's eye twitched a little at the pitch and he felt himself fall a little backward. Marik turned viciously toward him with eyes blinking full of hope. He almost looked like what the hotel clerk did when she found out they would be sharing a room. Bakura groaned a little, praying he wasn't about to do something stupid, but since it was Marik, it was probably just that. "Bakura! I have a question! It's very important!"

"Er…" Bakura hesitated. Part of him didn't want to know. "Yeah?"

"Okay…" Marik trailed off again though, resting his chin on his fist and looking back down to the floor. He became silent once more. Bakura waited for quite some time for him to speak up, but it didn't seem like he was going to.

"Marik-" Bakura began to interrupt. But Marik interrupted him back.

"What's love?" Marik asked, looking back up to him, eyes beaming with hope, excitement, and curiosity.

"I-I beg your pardon?" Bakura stammered in disbelief. What did he just ask him…? Maybe he didn't hear him correctly…

"What's love?" Marik repeated again. That's what he thought he said. But… Wait. What? Why in the world was Marik asking him that? And why Bakura? "Well I mean… I guess I know what it is… I mean I've seen it in all the movies… But…" Marik trailed off again. He looked to the ceiling, placing his finger on his chin to think. Then he looked back at Bakura and started to speak again. "But- what does it feel like? I mean- to be in love?" Marik cocked his head curiously, giving a pressing glance at Bakura.

Bakura was at a loss for words. Just what in the world was Marik thinking? And just why in the world was he thinking that? Bakura looked back at him as he patiently waited for some sort of answer, which was odd for Marik to be patient about anything. This reminded him of the time when he asked Bakura to join the evil council. He gave him a look similar to the one he was giving him now, which is why he couldn't say no. He would have been absolutely crushed. Now, he's giving him that look again. But what was he supposed to say? It's not like Bakura knew the answer. How should he? Why should he? His entire existence has been based off of his goal to killing the Pharaoh. What makes Marik think he knows anything about love? And why did Marik have to look so damn innocent and pure when he asked him? It would be so much easier to brush it off like he normally does. But this look was different from the normal ones he gave Bakura.

Bakura groaned. What was love? And what did it feel like? He just… He just…

"I-I don't know…" Bakura finally sighed. He almost felt defeated by the question. But why? It was just a question, after all, wasn't it?

"Wha-? Why not!?" Marik pouted, looking back at him with eyes burning with passion. "Haven't you ever been in love?" Marik looked up in hope.

"W-what?" Bakura stammered. He looked back at Marik, and was now looking apparently flustered. What? Of course not! Did Marik really just ask him that? Does he really believe that Bakura would have ever been in love before? Unless love counted for a burning desire to want someone dead on their spine, then no. Of course he's never been in love before!

_"Are you so sure about that?"_ A voice came.

"What?" Bakura stammered again. Marik cocked his head, confused at his repeated response. Bakura turned to his right, confusing Marik even more, to see Ryou sitting in his spirit form besides them.

_"If you don't even know what love is, or what it feels like, how can you be so sure that you've never felt it? How do you know you've never been in love?" _Ryou asked innocently, glancing back over to Marik. Bakura cringed a little. That was impossible. So what if he doesn't know? That didn't prove anything. And why did Ryou always have to come in and say such things? How did he even know what he was thinking? It's like he made it a hobby to make Bakura's life harder. To make him doubt the things he was so sure about.

"Bakura?" Marik wondered, staring at his frazzled face. Bakura wanted to somehow shoo Ryou away. It wasn't even his place to come and start speaking. But he continued.

_"If I tell you what it means to be in love, I'm sure you'll find that you've experienced it first hand," _Ryou smiled at him. Bakura gave him a scowl back. What? What was that supposed to mean? He was just talking nonsense now, wasn't he?

"Enlighten me." Bakura growled, clenching on of his fists in anger and annoyance. Marik scratched his head as Bakura talked to the wall.

"Are you ignoring me, Bakura?! Hello~?" Marik called out loudly and directly into his ear. But Bakura didn't pay attention. He kept his gaze fixed on Ryou and shoot him all sorts of dirty glares.

Ryou stood up and walked over in front of the blinds and peeked out them, then walked back around over to Bakura and Marik with his arms behind his back.

"Well?" Bakura growled impatiently. Wasn't he going to explain what love was? And how it felt to be in it? And that apparently somehow he's been in love before? So, then where's his proof? Why did he get all quiet? Maybe he was just all talk after all. But Ryou just smiled back at him, just like he always does. That smile always made it look like Ryou knew something Bakura didn't. It pissed him off.

_"Well isn't it obvious?" _Ryou cheered excitedly,_ "The answer's right in front of you!" _And with that, Ryou disappeared from the spot he was standing in, returning back to his soul room. Bakura lost sight of him, leaving only Marik now left in his view.

What was that supposed to mean? "The answer's right in front of you"? Was he calling him an idiot or something? Telling him that the answer was so obvious, but he wasn't able to see it? It didn't make sense.

The only thing that he could see that was "right in front on him" was Marik… And what was that supposed to prove?

…


	7. Pressure

**Author's Notice: I'm so sorry! For those of you who had already previously read my first chapter 7, I'm sorry! But shortly after posting chapter 7, I began to realize that it wasn't exactly correlating with the rest of my story. So, I decided that it was best I took the chapter down and redo it, (most parts are the same though, and it's still the same idea basically). Sorry! I still hope you'll enjoy this new version though, and try to forget what happened! (I'm such a scatter brain…)**

Chapter 7: Pressure

Love, huh? Impossible. Ryou doesn't know what he's talking about. After all, Bakura was a cold blooded killer, who would one day destroy the Pharaoh. His heart was a black hole of vengeance, so he couldn't possibly be in love. That's what Bakura knew to be true. What he knows to be true. Someone must have mixed drugs in Ryou's tea when he wasn't looking. What gave him that crazy idea? Bakura thought about it. He remembered what Ryou had said during the Mariku incident; _"But you care about him very much. He means more to you than I do."_

Bakura's face twitched. Wait a minute. Could Ryou have meant that he cared for Marik- as in loved Marik...? He couldn't even remember what he said back to him, being that it was in the heat of the moment. Bakura looked down and stared blankly. _"The answer's right in front of you."_ That's what he said, but Bakura never thought he would have been so literal about it. Ryou was indeed talking about Marik, wasn't he?

Yes, part of it was true, he did care for Marik. He realized this because of the Mariku incident; when his heart filled with pure relief and thankfulness when Marik turned out to be okay. When he found himself fighting so hard for that purpose. He didn't wish to admit it, he felt his pride slightly dimming at the words, but there really wasn't a point to denying it. So yes, for some reason he just couldn't describe, he did care for Marik.

But, that didn't mean he loved him, did it? Bakura thought back. He remembered something he didn't want to. He remembered the tear that fell from his eye. He never really thought about it at the time, but now he had all the time in the world to think about it. Why did he cry? Why was the thought of Marik not being a part of his life anymore so frightening? He's never cried since slaughtering of his village. Not once. Never. Yet he did. Did that mean-?

No. Bakura tried shaking the thoughts away. He won't accept it. He knew who he was; a killer, an avenger. He wouldn't let some idiot get in the way of it. And yet… He found himself admitting that he actually liked spending his days with him, wasting his time, and doing god knows what else with Marik. And when he thought Marik was going to die, he realized how much he liked being by his side.

But, was that love? It just couldn't be. Bakura tried to organize his thoughts. What's love? And what does it feel like? Bakura gritted his teeth. If he was in love, he should know. Besides, if he was in love, he'd be damned it'd be with an idiot like Marik. Not that he would ever be in love in the first place.

Bakura sighed. He felt his thoughts almost defeating him at his own game. He thought back to this morning; waking up to Marik, caressing him in his arms with a warm embrace, feeling his stomach and chest become light and fluttery despite the pain of his wounds that he couldn't feel at the time. He felt comfortable. He felt warm. He felt feelings inside him that he knew couldn't possibly exist. And he felt like he could lay there forever without complain. And hell, maybe even be happy, if only for a moment. Maybe… Maybe that's what love felt like? And maybe, love really was the urge to want someone close to you at all times, and to protect them at all costs like Bakura did when Mariku took over. And if that was true, then it would only make sense to conclude that he did in fact love Marik…

No. No. No! That just couldn't be! Besides, it was only because of the extreme events that had caused these thoughts to occur. It was only because of that that he felt the way he did. That he felt the warmness in his heart in this morning and last night. It should fade after a while. It just had to. Because Bakura knew for a fact that his heart was incapable of petty human emotions such as love. After all he's been through, it was simply impossible. No mortal should be able to penetrate the darkness in his heart; definitely not Marik. Yes, he did care… But was it love?

Bakura peered back up, trying to ignore his sore muscles. Damn that Ryou. If he hadn't said anything silly like that, he wouldn't be thinking about such things. Part of him was starting to believe it, and the other part wanted to viciously stab those thoughts dead. It was making him feel weak. The only reason he was thinking of these things were to prove that they weren't true, but so far they've been doing the exact opposite. Bakura cringed. How could a silly question make him feel this way? He thought back to Marik, who looked so hopeful when he asked him that question. But why? Why would an idiot like Marik want to know what it felt like to be in love? Surely it couldn't possibly be part of his next "evil scheme."

"If you aren't going to eat any of that, I will," Marik insisted when he noticed Bakura just staring into his plate blankly. He tried to jab his fork down onto Bakura's plate, but Bakura finally snapped back into reality and pulled his plate back, causing Marik to stab the wooden table.

He'd be lying if he said he still wasn't frazzled by it all.

"Bugger off. Not everyone eats like a pig, unlike someone here," Bakura shot back dryly. He was almost a little glad Marik interrupted his thoughts. However, it didn't exactly help out that his thoughts were concerning Marik at the same time. He looked back to him, examining his outfit. He wore a tight and sleeveless black vest that still exposed his midriff. How he managed to find clothing like that in a place like this, Bakura will never understand. They were accompanied with skin tight tannish-white pants that had two giant zippers coming out of the thighs. They were probably women's pants. But Bakura started subconsciously admiring him without even realizing it.

"Are you suggesting that I, Marik Ishtar, eat like a pig?!" Marik exclaimed. He slowed his eating from stuffing his face to barely putting anything in his mouth, then adjusted himself to sit upright as if he was a high class civilian. "I'll have you know, I'm one hundred percent pure elegance!"

"Is that so?" Bakura scoffed, "Well you have food all over your face." Bakura pointed to Marik's left cheek. Marik blinked at him peculiarly, then quickly wiped off the bits of omelet with his hand, blushing slightly in embarrassment. Bakura smirked a little. Marik's idiocy once again made him forget about his struggling thoughts. He felt a little calmer, being able to relax and think about other things for now.

Bakura finally began eating, quickly munching through the bland and stale excuse for a breakfast. He'd forgotten how hungry he actually was, being that they hadn't eaten at all since they came on this little road trip. In fact, he'd actually forgotten that they were indeed stranded here. He was so used to Marik's detours by now that it just became normal.

After paying with the stolen credit card, they walked outside the diner back into the desert sun. The tingle of the dry air tickled Bakura's nose, causing him to sneeze. It was hardly even daylight, but it was already hotter than most summer days in Japan.

"You know Bakura, I've been thinking!" Marik cheered.

"I had no idea you had that ability. Good job Marik," Bakura insulted with a smirk. Marik scowled at him but then continued.

"I kind of like it here! I mean, sure the people are total jerks and they don't seem to take showers, but besides that! It's kind of nice! I mean, just the two of us here, in the wide open desert, against nature itself. It's just like a movie! I wish we had a camera to film all this!" Marik exclaimed. They weren't exactly fighting nature or anything like that, but Bakura had a tough time catching the rest of his sentence after hearing "just the two of us." He felt the same strange and fluttery feeling chest just like this morning when he heard it. The words tingled up his spine into his head and replayed. Just the two of them. It normally was that way anyways, but it just seemed different when Marik said it. He felt a hot burning sensation grow in his cheeks, and it wasn't because of the sun.

Bakura wanted to slap himself. He realized that he was blushing like a child. Wait, what? He can't be serious. No way. He cursed himself under his breath and tried to stop the sensation. It shouldn't have been that big of a deal. It wasn't that big of a deal. So why was he blushing? Bakura never blushes. Ryou's innocent grin appeared in his mind;_ "Are you so sure that you've never felt love?" "The answer's right in front of you."_ Those quotes weren't even accurate, but they still played in his head. Then he heard Marik's voice; _"What's love?" "What does it feel like?" "How do you know?"_ He couldn't even recall him saying the last one, but he still heard it nonetheless. Was this it? Was this what Ryou had been talking about?

"Bakura?" Marik asked, waving his hand in front of Bakura's face. Bakura looked back at Marik, extremely flustered, and tried not to look directly into those deep violet eyes of his. Why did he have to look so innocent all of the sudden? "What's wrong? You look all sweaty. Do your wounds still hurt? Maybe you should lie down."

"N-no…" Bakura stuttered. He backed up subconsciously from Marik since he was just inches from his face. "J-just keep talking."

"Well now I know you're sick!" Marik gasped after hearing him say that as if he were in some sort of soap opera. "Don't worry Bakura! Doctor Marik is here!" Marik ran behind him and began pushing him back toward the hotel.

"Marik, you wanker, I'm not sick. Quit pushing me," Bakura hissed, blush finally faded. But Marik just smiled on and kept pushing. Bakura rolled his eyes. "If I'm sick of anything, it's of you." Marik gave his pouting face.

"You jerk!" Marik cried, but he still pushed him, "Just go up to our room and I'll meet you there."

"And where are you going?"

"None of your business! Just go!" Marik pouted. Bakura raised his eyebrow at him. It was probably a bad idea to let Marik go running around somewhere on his own, even if he says he'll be right back. Still, Bakura needed sometime alone to get his mind off things. To get his mind off of Ryou's crazy idea that he loves Marik. And to get his mind off the only seemingly logical explanation to why he's been acting so strangely. Bakura sighed and looked at Marik.

"Whatever. Just don't get yourself killed while I'm gone," Bakura sighed. Part of his was being sarcastic, but part of him also knew that it wasn't too far from the truth in Marik's case. Marik smiled at him brightly, which made Bakura slightly curious to what exactly he was going to do.

"Well go on! Don't just stand there!" Marik pointed in the direction of the hotel. Bakura rolled his eyes and began walking slowly toward it, glancing back at Marik who was watching him the whole time to make sure he was really going. That was odd. Marik never was the one the pressure Bakura to leave him alone. He must be up to something, but what? Probably nothing productive. That's for sure.

When Bakura entered the hotel lobby, he peeked curiously back to where Marik was standing, but he was gone. He sighed again. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't slightly worried. After all, they were still in some strange town they didn't belong in. And knowing Marik, he was about the only person who could get himself in some kind of trouble even in the most ridiculous of situations. Not to mention he's just so gullible and naïve. He'd fall for anything. And if someone were to point a gun to his head, Marik would probably tell them to fight him like a man and play a children's card game, just like a real villain would.

Bakura sighed.

"_Well?"_ Came Ryou's voice. Bakura sighed again, even louder. Great. Didn't he just say that he wanted to take his mind off of things? But now Ryou appeared before him once more. Bakura headed for the elevator, ignoring Ryou completely until the door was shut and he was alone. But since Ryou was in his spirit form, he just appeared before him again.

"Haven't you bugged me enough for one day? Since when have you been so chatty?" Bakura growled. Ryou continued to smile at him despite Bakura's anger.

"_You realized it, didn't you?"_ Asked Ryou. Bakura looked away.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he lied. The thoughts poured back into Bakura's mind like a flood. Did he love Marik? Why does he feel like stomached and fluttery all of the sudden around him? Why did he make him blush? Why does he worry about him? Why did he enjoy waking up to him and holding him so much this morning? Why did he have to care so much about an idiot? Why couldn't anything make sense!? And what is this feeling he keeps getting? The feeling of wanting him safely by his side… The feeling in his heart when he smiled at him or says something idiotic or looks flustered. The feeling he got when he looks at him with those puppy dog eyes and asks him something, which Bakura can't bear to say no to. The feeling of something purely warm and light. Maybe… Maybe after all… It really is love…?

"_If you don't, then why do you look so surprised?"_

"I-I don't-!"

"_Why can't you admit it? There's nothing wrong with it."_ Ryou smiled. Bakura hesitated. Maybe there wasn't anything wrong with it to Ryou, but to Bakura, everything was wrong with it. He can't love, he can only hate. His life is dedicated for one purpose, and that purpose didn't include Marik. If he admitted he loved him, it was like admitting he was giving up on that purpose. Admitting his defeat. Admitting the Pharaoh had won.

"There's nothing to admit," Bakura spat, but his face was still obviously flustered. Bakura felt trapped. Ryou's conclusion was really starting to make sense. But can Bakura really just sit there and accept it? No- he couldn't. Something inside him refused. Something inside him felt like his entire existence was being questioned. But why? Did it honestly matter if he did in fact love Marik? Was it really so bad? He could still kill the Pharaoh and love Marik… Right? But…

Bakura looked down. He promised himself that he would never give in to the emotions he once had as a child. Never. He knew the toll and burden of those emotions all too well. So, even if he did love Marik, he could never go through with it. Emotions like love would only get in the way, and he couldn't let that happen, not until the Pharaoh was dead on his spine by his own hands. No matter how badly his heart ached, no matter how much he realized he wanted to be with him, no matter how badly he would like to hold him in his arms again like he did this morning. He couldn't. He wouldn't. He won't.

So maybe he is feeling something. Call it whatever. But it doesn't matter. Bakura can't fall in love. Not in this millennium, or in any other. He couldn't, not only because he knew it was just impossible, but because he knew what will happen when he does. Because his life entailed one purpose, and one purpose only.

_"Then prove it." _Ryou suddenly broke the silence. Bakura looked up in confusion.

"What?"

_"If you don't love him, then prove it to me. If you do, I'll leave you alone."_ Ryou insisted. Bakura thought about it. He'd be more than satisfied at this point with Ryou leaving him alone and dropping this subject. And part of him also wanted to prove something to himself as well. He'd prove that he wasn't in love, and he'd prove that he still put his revenge above everything else. If he knew he didn't love Marik, then he could put all his thoughts aside him, and focus on what really should matter.

"And how exactly do I go about that? I don't suppose you'll believe anything I have to say," Bakura pointed out. Ryou looked up at the ceiling for a moment, putting his index finger on his chin to think, which he noticed Marik does occasionally as well. Ryou thought for a moment, then his face became bright, as if a light bulb had gone off over his head.

_"Ask him to a date,"_ Ryou suggested.

"What?" Bakura snapped. Did he really just suggest that he ask Marik out on a date? Was he insane? Like hell Bakura would ask anyone in his life out on a date, let alone Marik. Who did he think he was? There's just no way. "And why the devil would I do that?"

_"Well," _Ryou explained, _"If he really doesn't mean anything to you, then something as simple as a date shouldn't mean anything to you, right?"_ Ryou smiled. Bakura didn't like where this was going. Not one bit._ "If you do it, and you honestly don't feel anything toward him, then that would prove you don't love him. Then I'll leave you alone."_

Bakura groaned. He did want to prove that he didn't love Marik, but not that badly. Did he? And even if he did by an off chance feel something, he could probably just lie about it anyways, because no matter how much it seemed like it, it's not like Ryou could read his mind. But still, it's not like he's just going to walk up to Marik and ask him something like that. This was Bakura we're talking about. He still had some dignity.

"Yeah right. Besides, it's not like Marik would accept either, since he's insistent on being straight."

_"I wouldn't be so sure about that,"_ Ryou smiled. Bakura glared at him. Ryou always looked like he knew something that Bakura didn't. It was so frustrating.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

_"Nothing. But if you really don't love him like you say, then why is it such a big deal to ask?"_

Bakura growled, looking up at the floor dials at the top of the door. Could this elevator possibly go any slower?

"It's not. But I'm not doing it." Bakura had some self-respect. There was just no way he'd do this. Sure he wanted to prove it to both Ryou and himself that there was just no way he loved Marik. But he wasn't that desperate, was he? Why did it have to be so hard to prove he didn't like someone? And why couldn't he believe even himself when he says he doesn't?

_"So then you do love him?"_

"No, I never said that."

_"Then do it." _

"I'm not letting you push me around."

_"I'm not."_

"You are. Don't act innocent."

_"Why won't you ask?"_

"Why won't you be quiet?"

_"It's just a date."_

"Then why don't you ask him?"

_"Don't you want to prove that you don't love him?"_

"You're starting to annoy me. Not that you haven't been already."

_"It's only Marik."_

"What's that supposed to mean?" Bakura growled. He thought about it though, and it was somewhat true. Even if Bakura did ask him something as stupid as a date, Marik was probably too much of an idiot to think anything of it.

_"You shouldn't deny what you feel. It's not healthy," _Ryou continued to press. Bakura clutched his fist tightly. Bakura had had it now. He couldn't take anymore. A vein popped out of his forehead. He's never even been this pissed off at Marik before, which was saying something. He felt like his ears were bleeding with Ryou's innocence. If he could switch hosts at this point, he would do it in a heart beat. He just wanted him to shut up. Stop talking. Leave him alone. He didn't love Marik. He couldn't love anyone.

And if that was the only way...

"You know what? Fine." Bakura snarled in a yell and clenched both his fists now, then jammed one into the wall, "Fine. If it'll get you to piss off. I'll do it. I'll play your bloody game. But once I prove to you that you were wrong, you get off my case. I don't want to hear it anymore."

But Ryou just smiled, not even slightly fazed by Bakura's rage. Bakura wanted to hit him. To wanted to strangle him. He didn't know how lucky he was that couldn't touch him. He was tired of him acting like some sort of saint.

_"Deal." _Ryou smiled brightly and returned to his soul room. _"Have fun,"_ he said just before he split his connection.

"My ass." Bakura spat. The elevator had finally opened, almost as if it waited for him him to agree to Ryou's game.

Bakura growled, but then sighed. It was time to say goodbye to his dignity.

...What in god's name did he just get himself into?

…


	8. Temptations

Chapter 8: Temptations

"Marik, I told you I was fine…" Bakura sighed. When Marik had returned to the hotel room, he skipped in merrily with a bag full of things. The first thing he pulled out was a roll of white bandages and some ointment. So now here they were, Bakura sitting reluctantly on the bed, shirt off, letting Marik firmly yet tenderly wrap the bandages over his wounds that Mariku had given him the previous day as Marik also hummed a tune to god knows what song. If Bakura wasn't concerning himself over how to ask him to this little "date" Ryou had set up for them, than he might have been even more flustered to the feeling of Marik's warm hands brushing over his pale skin.

How in the world was he supposed to ask this idiot out on a date? Let alone to ask him without Marik taking anything from it. And if Ryou decides to appear out from his soul room one more time before he won this bet, he'd would without a doubt try to strangle him, even though he knew for a fact he couldn't since they shared the same body.

"Nonsense, Bakura! You were looking all sweaty earlier!" Marik cheered, continuing to concentrate on tying the knot as if it were some sort of work of art. Bakura normally would correct him. But what was he supposed to say? It wasn't the wounds that were bothering me; it was just that I was blushing because of some idiotic and lame thing you said? He didn't think so. "There! Done, see?"

Bakura groaned, trying not to look at Marik's happy-go-luck expression and scooped up his shirt. Marik stopped him before he put it back on.

"Not so fast!" Marik interrupted, picking his bag of bought goods back onto the bed and fishing something out of it. He pulled out a plain white t-shirt, which was clean and unwrinkled compared to Bakura's blue and white stripped one, and then continued to pull out something Bakura found rather peculiar; a red cloak with a white trim. Bakura groaned subconsciously. It was the cloak that he had been staring at in the shop yesterday, which Marik must have had noticed. "Ta-da!"

"I'm not wearing that," Bakura spat. Yes, it was almost exact to the one he used to wear, but there was no way he could go back to wearing that sort of thing now. Not in this era.

"Wha!? Why not?" Marik exclaimed, "I mean, I've got to admit, you have no sense in fashion, Bakura. But I thought you liked it!" Marik looked at him with those puppy dog eyes again. Bakura cringed. Not those eyes again. He turned away fast, feeling another warm sensation in his cheeks. Dammt. It was beginning to get worse, wasn't it? He could hardly even look at Marik anymore. And now, he had to ask him to a date?

"I-if it'll get you to shut up," Bakura said again, without even try saying no. He knew he wouldn't be able to anyways. Marik smiled brightly, just like an idiot would, totally oblivious to Bakura's conflicted mind.

"Well, I'm going to go take a shower now," Marik declared, "Will you, too?"

"What?" A chill shot up Bakura's spine. This time he couldn't hold back the blushing sensation. He quickly hid his face behind his hand and turned away. D-did he just ask if he would shower with him?

"You know, take a shower after me. I mean, you're probably still all hot and sweaty. You must stink!" Marik explained.

"O-oh." Bakura replied. Of course that's what he meant. He felt silly. Ridiculous, more like. Dammit. Dammit. Dammit. What the bloody hell was wrong with him? It's still the same Marik, after all. Nothings different. Nothing. Nothing except Bakura…

"Oh isn't an answer!" Marik pouted.

"F-fine, whatever."

Marik smiled again, prancing merrily into the bathroom and shutting the door. Bakura wanted to sink into the covers. Marik was the idiot, yet it was Bakura who was acting rather idiotic at this point. He groaned, looking back to the cloak. That's right. The cloak. Just like the one he used to wear. Just like the one he almost killed the Pharaoh in. Almost. It was enough of a reminder to make Bakura remember his previous thoughts. He didn't have time for love. He had a goal. And the sooner he got this date over with and proved to himself and to Ryou that whatever the hell he was feeling wasn't love, the sooner he could return to completing that goal.

But there was still the question. How was he going to ask? He wasn't just going to walk up to Marik and ask. No way. But what else could he do? Ryou probably wouldn't be satisfied with him unless he made sure that Marik was also aware that it was a date. So it's not like he could get around it either. And anyways, what exactly would the date be anyways? What would they do? The thought had never crossed his mind until now.

Bakura thought about it for a moment. They weren't exactly in a town of luxury or anything, so what could they possibly do anyhow that would be classified as a date? They had already eaten, so the generic excuse was already out. But what else were they? He had no idea what anyone could possible do in this town. Only someone as simple minded as Marik could figure something out. Then again, it's not like Bakura had to ask him to do anything specific. That wasn't part of the so called "deal."

Marik's voiced slightly penetrated through the walls of the hotel room as he sung, in a rather out of tune and deafening pitch, while he took a shower. Bakura smirked slightly. What an idiot. Maybe he really was thinking too much out of this after all. Like Ryou had said earlier; _"It's only Marik."_ Something about that made him feel slightly at ease. At least for the time being. Marik was Marik, after all.

Bakura turned back to the clothes that Marik had placed on the bed. He stretched himself out before picking up the t-shirt and sliding over his now bandaged torso. His muscles were beginning to feel a whole lot better than they did before. He then pulled the cloak on and stood up. He walked over to a body mirror in the corner of the room.

He cringed at the sight. It was the same outfit, but it didn't look at all the same with this body. Looking at it drape over his slim figure that lacked the muscle mass he had back when he was alive, he began to question how he ever wore clothing like this. He was also glad that Marik had brought him a t-shirt as well, instead of showing off his chest like he used to. He was also very glad that he was wearing jeans rather than a skirt. Even if he had his old body back, he still questioned about the skirt. He's a little glad now that Egyptian clothing has seemingly changed completely from his day.

He sighed, turning away from the mirror. Well, it still could be worse. He could be wearing skin tight clothing if Marik had given him his puppy dog eyes to those too. He shuttered a little thinking about it. Thank god he didn't.

Bakura perched himself back onto his bed and thought about it a little longer. A date wouldn't be so bad, would it? Marik would be the only one who knew about the ordeal anyways. Then again, Marik did tend to be a blather mouth. He could imagine him bringing it up at one of the evil council meetings, which wouldn't help his case considering Pegasus already assumes they're totally gay for each other. Then he thought back to the time he had a dream about Mariku crashing one of the evil council meetings and basically killing every member. Bakura snickered sinisterly to himself. Maybe Mariku would be good for something after all, if he ever did find a way back in control that is. He always hated most of those idiots in the council.

Suddenly, Bakura's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the bathroom door flinging open. Bakura was caught a little off guard, not realizing that he had spent a fair amount of time just thinking to himself. The smell of mist poured into the small hotel room from the tiny bathroom. But Bakura found himself helplessly gawking at the body emerging out of the mist.

It was Marik. Well, of course it was. Only his hair was drenched, dripping with small droplets of water into a small towel he had wrapped around his neck. And he wasn't even wearing a shirt. He could see the water running down his hot and moist body and that damn gorgeous midriff of his. It also ran down his forehead and body as if it were sweat, as if Marik had been doing something vigorous. His skin seemed slightly reddish from the intense heat of the water. His pants seemed to be three times as tight as they normally were, if that was somehow even possible. And it wasn't helping that steam was pouring from the room, only adding to the affect. Bakura began to feel hot and sweaty just looking at him. He looked- So… So damn sexy…

Bakura's heart began to pound rapidly.

"Bakura?" Marik asked. He was now standing over him, peering down at him, his head cocked in slight curiosity and concern. Bakura's mind hadn't even comprehended his movement toward him. He looked so innocent, his hair still wet. Bakura felt some of the droplets fall onto his face as he stood there over him. "What's wrong? Your nose is bleeding," Marik asked in concern. But Bakura was frozen. He felt his body start to react on his own. He fought desperately over the urge to pull him down on top of him, letting his heated body press against his own, wanting to grab his head from behind and start making out with him furiously. Dammit. Why? He just couldn't help it. He wanted to. He needed to.

He felt weak, not being able to chase away the thoughts this time. Not being able to chase them away anytime Dammit. His mind screamed not to do it, but his body was beginning to form a mind of its own. He had to hurry, before it was too late. Before his hand decided to yank him forward and let himself explore the curves of Marik's perfect, heated, and still moist body for himself. Before he let himself feel their tongues dance with each other inside their mouths.

He had to stop it. He felt his hand pushing itself forward. Why was he so weak? Why couldn't he resist it anymore? Why did he want Marik so badly? He needed to stop himself. Just stop. Break the silence. Do something. Say something. Stop himself. Do something. Anything. Just don't grab him. Don't pull him onto you. Don't kiss him. He was trying to prove that he didn't love him. If he did that now, what proof would that be? Just say something! Anything! Just don't do it. He can't do it. Just can't.

"Do you want to go out?" Bakura blurted it out to interrupt himself, catching his arm in time before he grabbed Marik by his shirt and pulled him in. Bakura hadn't even realized what he said. He just- he just- said it... He had to say something. Anything. It just happened to be that.

Marik looked at him curiously and confused, pointing to the blood that was running down his cheek. Bakura sat up from the bed and quickly wiped it off with his sleeve. Since the sleeve was red, the stain was hardly visible. Marik's expression then went back to normal.

"Go out? And do what?" Marik asked curiously, looking toward Bakura with his normal and innocent face. It didn't seem like he found anything odd about what Bakura had said. Bakura hesitated. He couldn't back out of it now. But compared to what he was thinking about doing a second ago, he didn't find it as hard as he thought it would be.

"Err.." Bakura tried to think about how to word it, "I-I don't know… Whatever you want to do…"

"Really?" Marik looked to him excitedly with his puppy dog eyes and an idiotic grin. It was rare Bakura would ever say he wanted to do something with Marik. In fact, he had never said it. He never planned on ever saying it. Bakura looked away immediately. But dammit. He knew Marik still didn't understand. And he knew he still had to say it.

"Yeah…" Bakura cringed, and swallowed hard. It must have been his pride that he was swallowing. "It'll be like a…" He gulped one more time. "Date…"

…


	9. Truthful Eyes

Chapter 9: Truthful Eyes

It wasn't the answer that Bakura had been expecting. He's known Marik for quite some time now, so he expected him to say something like this; "What!? You mean like a straight date? Since everybody knows that I'm totally straight of course! Hah!" or "Hah! You know I'm totally out of your league, Bakura!" But he said none of those things. Nothing even close.

Marik just stared back at Bakura, looking surprised and just as frazzled as he did. His face turned such an intense shade of red that it was clearly visible even through his dark skin.

"W-what?" Marik stuttered shyly. What? Did Marik really just say what? Does Bakura really have to repeat himself?

"Uh…" Bakura trailed off. He wasn't honestly doing to say it again, was he? He couldn't even believe that he had actually said it the first time. "A date… With me-" he mumbled. Oh god. He said it twice.

But it was strange. He thought for sure that he would feel his pride dwindling at the words and something inside him would die. But that just wasn't the case. Not at all. Instead, he felt a strange weight lift from his shoulders. He felt the same light and fluttery feeling that he did this morning and not too long ago. He didn't hear Ryou's voice taunting him in his head. No. He had actually forgotten at this point that he had been asking against his will in the first place. He was- almost… Glad he had asked.

Bakura looked back to Marik, who was staring at the ground with a flustered expression and twiddled his fingers restlessly. He shifted his gaze around as if he was desperately searching for the words. Bakura couldn't help but stare in utter curiosity. This was the first time that he had seen Marik this way, aside from him waking up in shock in Bakura's arms this morning. But this was different. This time, it was just a single word that had startled him; "date." And Bakura even dared himself once more to call his reaction- cute.

"O-okay…" Marik finally mumbled, his cheeks glowing twice as red as he said it. Bakura looked toward his eyes. They were softly glistening in their own unique way.

Bakura couldn't help but smile. He couldn't help but laugh. He no longer felt any awkwardness or doubt. Something about seeing Marik's reaction made him calm. Made him comfortable. Made him warm. Marik looked up at him in confusion as he laughed brightly. It wasn't a sinister or mocking laugh like it normally was. This laugh was pure. It was from the heart.

"W-what?" Marik slightly lowered him head in embarrassment.

"Nothing," Bakura said, letting his laughter subside. "You just look like an idiot. Not that you usually don't." Bakura teased playfully.

"What!?" Marik shot back up in a pout, losing some of his embarrassment. Bakura leaned himself back on the bed, putting his arms behind his head and looking up toward the ceiling. Marik cocked his head slightly.

"Anyways, you pick whatever. I really don't care," Bakura continued.

"Do you ever?" Marik replied, slightly smiling to himself and lowering himself down on his bed. He put his index finger on his chin like he normally did when he was thinking. The room was silent for a brief moment as he continued to think. "I have an idea!"

"And what would that be?" Bakura turned to Marik, who looked as if he was daydreaming about something. He sprung up from the bed and looked to Bakura in a hopeful and excited manner.

"Let's go build a sandcastle!" Marik looked to Bakura with an expression that made him look like a five year old begging for candy.

"What?" Bakura raised an eyebrow, "You're not serious, are you?" But Bakura knew better than to ask if Marik was serious, because no matter how ridiculous the situation, he always was indeed being serious. But he figured after Marik's reaction that he would actually come up with something at least a little bit classy. Then again, it was still Marik he was dealing with here. So classy? As if.

"Of course I am! Come on, Bakura, it'll be fun! Besides, you said I could pick!" Marik pouted to Bakura. If this were any other situation, he would comment on how childish he was being, and refuse to go. But today, he didn't feel the need to do those things. Not at this moment at least. And it wasn't because he was actually being forced to do this by Ryou. Bakura sighed in a half fake manner. He looked back up to Marik, who was still glaring at him with a pleaded gaze.

"Alright. Fine." Bakura watched intently as Marik's expression light up at his words.

"Yay! Let's go!" Marik cheered as he pranced toward the door. Bakura got up slowly, following the cheery Marik out of the hotel room, to the lobby, then outside to the town. Since this town had roads, even though they were poorly made and cracked everywhere, they had to walk a little ways outward of the town.

...

Bakura had been watching Marik as he concentrated with all his might on his creation. However, the so-called sandcastle looked more like a giant blob of nothingness. It was just a pile of sand, nothing more. Bakura crouched down next to Marik as he pouted in disappointment at the sand, as if it would somehow turn itself into a work of art if he glared hard enough. Bakura smiled slightly.

"That's some artistry you've got there, Marik," Bakura scoffed. Marik turned to him and directed the pouting toward him now.

"I'd like to see you do better!" Marik whined. Bakura laughed. This was the oddest excuse for a date that he had ever heard of, but it still felt satisfying in some weird way. Somehow.

"You should know that desert sand isn't like the sand you'd find at a beach," Bakura explained, "It would have never worked. You were born here, you should know."

"Well if that was true, then why didn't you say so before we came all the way out here!? Besides, it's not like I spent very much time on the surface. And anyways, how do you know so much about the desert?"

Bakura sat himself down and looked up toward the sky, squinting his eyes to the bright sun.

"Well because I used to live here," Bakura replied casually. Marik turned away from the sand pile and looked at Bakura in surprise.

"You mean you had a host who lived in Egypt?" Marik wondered, cocking his head slightly. Bakura had finally realized that he said something strange. He'd never mentioned anything about his past before to anyone, even if it was as small as that. But he didn't even think about his response. It just came out.

"Er…" Bakura sighed. He supposed that Marik wouldn't let it go if he tried to brush it aside now. "No… No, I was born here when I was alive. You know, in my own body." Marik looked up to him with utter curiosity. Marik thought about Bakura's words for a moment, with more and more questions beginning to pop up into his head.

"What did you look like?" Marik asked abruptly with a smile.

"Huh?" Bakura looked back at him, startled. Why in the world did he ask that?

"You know, your old body. Your real one, I mean. What did you look like?" Marik cocked his head again and waited patiently for an answer. Bakura looked down. He knew what he looked like, but… When he really began to think about it, he began to realize how long it had really been since he had seen his body. Since he had seen himself. Bakura looked looked back to Marik, but then smirked slightly.

"Well, for one, I was a lot sexier than you are. My skin was just as tan and I had much better body. My hair was white and my eyes were purple, and I had a sexy scar on the side of my face." Bakura gestured to his right eye and traced the odd shape of his scar with his index finger.

"What!? Yeah right! No one is sexier than I, Marik Ishtar!" Marik put his hands on his hips and deemed proudly. Bakura scoffed. Marik looked back to him in offence, but then his expression suddenly changed. Bakura raised an eyebrow and watched as Marik studied his face. Marik put his face just inches away from Bakura's and looked at his intensely.

"What?" Bakura looked at him strangely as he continued to stare. Marik suddenly took his index finger and traced the outline of Bakura's face where he had just traced where his scar had been. Bakura felt a chill run up his spine as Marik slowly moved his finger on the side of his face.

"Did it hurt?" Marik asked.

"Huh?"

"The scar. Did it hurt?" Marik asked curiously, then pulled back from Bakura's flustered face and looked up to him. Bakura tried to calm his nerves down to answer him.

"At first I suppose. I don't really remember..." Bakura glared strangely at Marik. Marik should know firsthand what a scar felt like since his back practically was one giant scar. So why did he ask? He looked back to Marik, who was looking up toward the sky. He didn't look quite serious, but at the same time he didn't look like the idiot that he normally looked like. He looked rather- mature. Rather- handsome.

"How come you never said anything before?" Marik looked back to him.

"About what?"

"Your past."

Bakura hesitated a little.

"I guess it just never really came up…" He sighed. There's a lot about his past that he didn't want to remember. Marik smiled at him and pushed one of his hands in the warm sand, lifting some of it up and letting it slide gently out of his hand and blow with the wind.

"So what about your family?"

"My- what?" Bakura froze. He tried to look away from Marik. That was exactly the thing he didn't want to remember. He didn't want to remember his family. He didn't want to remember their faces. He didn't want to remember how happy he was back in those days with them. Because with those memories came another one. Or rather, with those memories, came a nightmare. The nightmare of what happened to them in the end… What the Pharaoh did to them…

Bakura clenched his fist.

Marik peered up, slightly alarmed, noticing the extreme change of expressions on Bakura's face. He looked blankly toward the horizon of nothingness. His body became stiff and seemingly lifeless. The calmness and content he had on his face a second ago was now faded. He clenched his fist even tighter, clutching some sand in his hand and letting slightly trembling in frustration and anger. Bakura felt a pain in his heart, as if someone where stabbing him over and over, except that no one was actually there. He scowled and cringed his face, trying to shove the thoughts away.

"Bakura?" Marik asked in concern, seeing his frustrated and angry expression. But Bakura didn't hear him. Marik then looked at Bakura's eyes. They didn't glisten in anger like the rest of his body trembled with. They didn't glisten in frustration or seemed livid or had a murderous glint in them. No. What Marik saw in those eyes shocked him. What he saw was something he never thought he'd ever see in Bakura. What he saw… Almost made Marik want to tear up and cry for him.

What Marik saw as he continued to watch his eyes was something painful. Something that changed what Marik had perceived of Bakura throughout all the events since they had first met.

In those eyes, Bakura looked sad, he looked frightened, he looked defeated, he looked frustrated, he looked angry. Yes, he looked all those things. Yes, those were still surprising. But that wasn't what Marik was focusing on. No, the final emotion he saw in those eyes was the most shocking to him of all. The final emotion that made Marik feel the pain that Bakura was going through as well. He felt as though his heart was bleeding with his.

What he saw in those eyes… What Bakura looked like… He looked…

Lonely…

In those eyes, he saw someone who was shrouded in darkness, not being able to find his own way out. No one there to guide him. No one there who wanted to. No one who would even give him the time of day. He was alone… All alone… With no one else in the world. Helpless. It's not like he chose it to be that way, that's just how it was. Was Bakura, and although he would never admit it, truly… Lonely?

Marik couldn't hold it back any longer. He let a tear fall out of his eye. He'd never seen anyone look like that before. Never. And he would have never expected Bakura. Not even Marik himself ever was that way. Even though he did create Mariku, and even through all his hardships, he always had someone there; Rishid and Ishizu. But Bakura? Bakura didn't have anyone like that. Marik didn't have to ask to figure that out. He'd been roaming in this life for millennia, without a soul that cared about him. Without anyone even willing enough to look his way. Marik could figure that out just by seeing those eyes. And he felt his heart break for him.

Bakura finally noticed Marik crying silently as he stared at him. Bakura immediately had forgotten his thoughts and his body returned back to normal. Why in the world was Marik crying? Bakura had only been spacing out for a moment or two. Bakura looked at him in shock. He didn't know what to say. He had no idea what to do. He opened his mouth a couple times, but nothing came out. Part of him was starting to panic slightly.

"M-Marik…?" Bakura stuttered. Did he do something? If he did, he had no idea what. He was fine a second ago. So why was he crying now? Bakura tried to think. But he just couldn't figure it out.

But suddenly, the unexpected situation turned even more unexpected.

Bakura froze. Marik gently placed his hands on Bakura's cheeks, still staring at him with tears falling from his face. He looked at him for a brief moment longer, before… Before-

Marik closed his eyes and leaned his face forward- all the way forward, until… Their lips were touching. Bakura felt his body and mind shoot out all sorts of reactions, but he didn't move. He couldn't. He was frozen. He felt Marik press his lips and caress them around Bakura's bottom lip softly and roughly all at the same time with tears still running down his face. He could taste his breath slowly seeping into his own mouth as Marik slowly poked his tongue at the entrance of Bakura's mouth, almost as if he was asking for permission to enter. Bakura didn't reject it. And he was still frozen in shock.

Marik was- … He was-… Kissing him… Kissing Bakura. Why? Wait-

What…?

…


	10. The Meaning of the Words

Chapter 10: The Meaning of the Words

Part of his mind screamed for him to pull away. Part of his mind kept asking questions; why was Marik crying? Why in god's name was he kissing him? And what was he just thinking about a second ago? Because he couldn't remember. But he didn't honestly care at this point. All he could focus on was the feeling right now of Marik's lips pressing against his own, their tongue exploring the tangy sensations of each other. Yes, part of his mind said to pull away. But he wasn't about to. Because the other part of his mind was enjoying every second of it. Part of hid mind and body and soul loved it with every fiber of his being.

Bakura finally became unfrozen and began to kiss him back. His arms moved on their own, brushing lightly over Marik's bare waist and wrapping his arms around them. Had Marik's shirt not been so skin tight, Bakura would have pressed his hand under it and trace his scar on his back with his fingers.

His mind was too busy focusing on the sensation that filled every fiber of him with pleasure and joy to realize that this was his very first kiss. Even in all the lives he's lives, and all the years he's wandered the universe, he'd never once kissed anyone before, or had been kissed. It was tender and rough all at the same time. He didn't want this moment to end. He didn't want to pull back. He didn't want Marik to stop. He wanted more. And had they not been in the middle of the desert and back in the hotel room, he might have let himself succumb to temptations. No. He would have.

Marik finally pulled back, panting heavily and trying to gasp for air while blushing like a mad man. The tears running down his face had finally come to a stop. He looked up at Bakura in a startled manner, almost as if he hadn't realized what he had just done. Bakura was slightly disappointed, but he still enjoyed watching Marik's extremely flustered expression.

"B-Bakura… I- um- I just-… Um-" Marik stuttered, trying to avoid Bakura's gaze. Bakura had completely erased from his mind he was trying to prove that he didn't indeed love Marik. He didn't care anymore. The feelings he was having just felt too damn good. If it was love, then so be it. And he knew now the feelings he was having just had to have been love. He realized that. And he found that he was alright with it. He loved Marik. Yes, he was an idiot, a moron, and all of those things. But he loved him. His heart fluttered around him, and he just couldn't imagine his life without him. He didn't want to leave his side, however idiotic and useless their adventures would turn out to be. When he was around Marik, he felt warm. And he dared to accept that he felt-... Happy.

And now he thought back to what Ryou had said when he said that Marik wouldn't accept the date; _"I wouldn't be so sure about that."_ Maybe he meant… That Marik loved Bakura? Is that why Marik kissed him? Did Marik love him? The thoughts flowed smoothly in his head, relaxing his body and filling him with a tingling sensation. Maybe, after all, Marik perhaps did love him too? He smiled gently at the thought. Just thinking about it made his heart flutter. He looked back to Marik.

"You just, what?" Bakura teased with a smirk, moving his face closer to his. Marik tried to scoot backward in reflex, but Bakura's arms were still curled around his waist as he held him in his lap. Realizing this, Marik stopped struggling. He wanted to say it, but he was so nervous. He felt like his heart was about to pound out of his chest. That it might even explode.

"I just- I wanted to say that, I- I- I realized that I l-" Marik paused, not being able to get it out. Instead he pressed his head gentle onto Bakura's chest and wrapped his arms around him in a soft hug. Bakura blushed slightly as they both held each other in their arms. Was Marik about to say that he loved him? It sounded that way. And he was beginning to believe it.

Marik continued. "I want you to know that you're not alone anymore." Marik said instead, even though his intend was the same. But Bakura didn't quite expect that answer, nor did he really understand what he meant. He raised his eyebrow slightly.

"What do you mean?" Bakura wondered. Marik peered up slightly and tried to think of a response that would give the same meaning without him actually saying the words.

"W-well I mean, whatever happened in your past doesn't matter anymore, because I'm here with you now," Marik explained shyly.

Bakura's expression flipped on itself, turning into a scowl. He blocked out the last part of his sentence after hearing the first part. He wasn't sure how Marik had figured out something happened in his past, but it didn't matter. He thought back to when Marik was crying.

…Was he crying because he figured out his past? And if so, that would mean he felt bad for him because of it. Why else would he cry? And if Marik was feeling sorry for him… Then that would be the same as pitying Bakura. Bakura gritted his teeth. And if that was the case, then the reason he kissed Marik, was not because he loved him, but because he felt sorry for him. It was a pity kiss, and nothing more. Did Marik really only do it for that reason? Did he only care for him in pity? And the one thing Bakura hated the most, was when the only reason people gave him the time of day was because they felt bad for him. He's had it happen before, and he hates it more than anything. Bakura was piecing together his own version of the puzzle in his head, and it was somehow clicking together.

Marik was still pressed against Bakura's chest, completely oblivious to Bakura's sudden turn in emotions and his sudden twisting on Marik's words.

Dammit. He was being such a fool. A fool. An idiot. A moron. A weakling. And to have thought not even five seconds ago that Marik may have actually truly cared for him? That he may have actually loved him? Dammit. He was right all along. These petty emotions, such as love, were getting the better of him. They were screwing his judgment. For a brief moment, he actually felt… truly happy. For a brief moment, he didn't care about anything else.

Goddammit. It just wasn't fair. Why did it have to be this way? Why did he have to figure out he was in love? Only to have it be shattered once again because of the situation he lived in. His past. It wasn't supposed to be this way. But it was. And it always will be. He knew it, but he still let himself be overcome with emotions. But was it true? Did Marik really only like him in pity? Did he only comfort him because his heart ached for him? Did he really not care about him in any other way than that?

Bakura wouldn't be surprised if that was true. In fact, he did believe it was true. Every bit of it. Without a doubt. Because someone like him who's been shrouded in darkness for so long could never truly be wanted by anyone in a world that wanted him dead. A world that would be so much better off without him. No one. Of course it was that way. It just had to be… Right? He had no other choice but to believe it.

Bakura let go of Marik abruptly, causing Marik to look to him in confusion. Part of him still didn't want to believe it, but the other part knew it just had to be true. No one could love Bakura. They never have. Never will. And Bakura was a fool to let himself fall for a mortal knowing all these things. He was a fool to let himself forget the fate he was bound to. To let Marik make him forget.

He couldn't bare it anymore. He couldn't look at Marik anymore. He had to get away. Right now. He needed to pretend as if none of this ever happened. He needed to forget Marik's existence. And he needed to eliminate this idiotic love in his heart before his heart bled itself to death. No more useless adventures, no more arguing with him about ridiculous things, no more. No more Marik. None of it. Bakura needed to return back on the path he was set out to do in the first place, and leave all his emotions in the past, just as he did once before. How could he have let this happen? He knew better. He did. But it still happened. And if Marik didn't care about him, then he wouldn't care about Marik either. No. Not anymore. His heart couldn't take it anymore. He won't allow it to. It was time to re-close his heart that had somehow opened up to Marik when he wasn't looking.

Bakura stood up, shoving Marik roughly off of his lap. Part of Bakura almost felt like giving up, but he wouldn't. Instead, he would stab an invisible dagger in his heart and move on. Get over it. Marik didn't care. Why should he? He'll go on alone and kill the Pharaoh, and do what he promised he would all those years ago. Alone. Without Marik. Without anyone but himself. He would avenge his family. His friends. His village. This was it. There was no going back. Not again.

He didn't turn to the direction of the town. No, he turned for the direction of the endless desert and stormed off. He didn't allow himself to look back to Marik. He just kept walking until Marik was almost out of distance. His mind wanted to shout back a number of things; good riddance, he doesn't need him, he's glad he can finally leave, who needs that idiot anyways? But none of those things are what came out of his mouth. No, he just looked down at the ground, clenching his fist, and whispered softly;

"Goodbye, Marik." The words were too quiet to be heard. They came out bitterly, angrily, and yet tenderly at the same time. Bakura didn't turn back to look, even though he wanted to desperately. He began walking through the sands until Marik could no longer be in sight even if he did decide to look back.

Marik watched him go, his mind in so much shock and confusion he couldn't even utter a word to stop him. He wasn't sure what just happened. He didn't understand. Did that mean Bakura had rejected him? That Bakura didn't love him back? Marik should have known since it was Bakura after all. And Bakura's favourite line was always that he didn't care. He was probably being foolish to assume otherwise. But still, Marik had hope. He didn't think Bakura would just leave him there after trying to say how he felt. True, he never actually said he loved him straight out, but Bakura must have understand what he meant, right? Why else would he have gotten so upset all of the sudden? Marik felt his heart bleed. Bakura must not have felt the same way he did. He must not have loved him after all.

Marik sunk on his knees, clutching the sand desperately, and began to cry viciously. The tears poured out like an endless waterfall as he lost sight of Bakura in the distance.

…


	11. Caught in Shadows

**Author's note: I found this last part of this chapter funny for me to write because I am a Deathshipper, XD! Anyways, if you've read to this point, I want to thank you for sticking with this story for so long! I really appreciate it!**

Chapter 11: Caught in Shadows

Bakura had been walking for quite some time now. He let his body collapse onto the warm desert sands and watched as the sun disappeared from the sky, leaving only a dark and star filled sky above his eyes. How could he have let this happen? Didn't he learn anything since the day his family was slaughtered right before his eyes? Bakura sighed in a half growl, thrusting up some sand which blew in his eyes. When did things turn out to be so bad?

The moon was present, but Bakura didn't find it to be glistening like it normally did. It looked pale and gloomy. There were even a couple of clouds present, which was rare in the desert skies. He needed to organize his thoughts. He needed to banish Marik from the depths of his mind and heart. It was only a matter of time. He just had to forget. Hopefully sooner than later.

The Millennium Ring began to glow as it lay on Bakura's chest. Ryou appeared out in his spirit form. Bakura's rage only grew at the sight of his pure and innocent face.

"I don't want to hear it," Bakura barked, warning Ryou not to say a word. He shifted his body on his side so that Ryou was out of his sight.

_"You have to go back,"_ Ryou told him.

"Shut up." Bakura pressed his hand over his ear to block him out. The only problem was, Ryou was talking to him through his mind, so covering his ears did nothing.

_"You misunderstood what Marik meant,"_ Ryou insisted and tried to convince him. But Bakura's patience for anything was gone right now. Dead. And he couldn't take one more word. He just couldn't. His anger skyrocketed. He jammed his hand into his back pocket and grabbed his knife, pulled the trigger to release the blade, and flung it violently toward Ryou's forehead. The knife went right through Ryou and fell somewhere in the distance and sunk into the sands.

"I said shut the hell up! I don't want to hear that name again!" Bakura spat, jumping up and giving Ryou a murderous glare. Ryou touched his forehead and looked down at his hand, almost as if he had actually hurt him and was seeing if there was any blood where the knife had passed through.

Bakura felt something twinge at him when he saw Ryou looking at his hands in startle. He'd never been so angry before, even though he knew that the knife wouldn't have hurt him.

Ryou clenched his hand in a fist and looked back into Bakura's eyes. _"Bakura you idiot! Why don't you stop being so stubborn for once and listen to someone else for a change!"_ Ryou yelled out. Bakura was slightly startled at his sudden outburst of anger, but then clenched his fists as well and retaliated.

"And just why the hell should I listen to you?! Stop acting like you're right about every goddamn thing! Because you're not! And whatever you say won't get me to go back so don't waste your breath!" Bakura shouted.

_"But you love him! And don't you see? Marik was trying to tell you that he loved you! And if you leave him there, Mariku might be able to take control again!" _Ryou stood up and continued to yell back. Bakura hesitated slightly at his words, but then gritted his teeth and continued.

"No, you're wrong! Marik doesn't give a damn about me! And I don't give a damn about what happens to that moron either! I don't love him! I'm not human! I don't carry around such petty emotions like you pathetic fools! I'm a cold blooded murderer! All I care about is killing the Pharaoh!"

_"But you were human once before! Don't sit here and pretend like you wouldn't care if Mariku killed him! Don't act like you don't feel the pain in your heart right now! I don't know what happened in your past, but I know you well enough!" _Ryou let a tear fall from his face. Bakura bit down as hard as he could.

"You don't know a damn thing about me! What makes you think you can try and tell me who I am!? I know who I am! What gives you the right to think you know me better!?"

_"That's not what I'm trying to tell you! I'm trying to tell you that Marik said you didn't have to alone anymore because he wanted to be by your side! That you didn't have to worry about the past anymore because he would be there for you! Because he loved you!"_

"The only reason he wanted to be by my side was because he felt sorry for me! That's not love! It's goddamn pity! And I don't need or want anyone's damn sympathy! Those people can go to hell!"

_"That's not true!"_

"Of course it's true! That's the way it's always been! They have no idea what it's like! What gives them the right to sympathize with me?! And I don't have to sit here and listen to you anymore!" Bakura abruptly switched control over the body back to Ryou and locked himself inside his soul room, away from Ryou's reach. Ryou blinked up in shock, but then grabbed the Millennium Ring and started to shake it.

"You still don't understand, Bakura! Come back out! That's not the way Marik is, and you know that! You can't just hide from this!" Ryou shouted at the inanimate object. But Bakura didn't respond. Ryou couldn't sense his presence, but he knew he was there. "You idiot! Marik could really be in trouble!"

He dropped the item back to his chest and let his thoughts process. He needed to find Marik and explain to him that Bakura had mistaken his words. Marik needed to know that Bakura really did love him back. That the reason he left was because he thought that Marik didn't really love him. That this was all one big misunderstanding. And it wasn't just a matter of love anymore. Ryou knew there was a strong possibility that Mariku will be able to take over Marik's body again in his distress and pain. He needed to find him and talk to him, because Marik could very well die by Mariku's hands, and so could many other innocent people. And if Bakura wouldn't believe him and go talk to Marik on his own, then Ryou would take matters into his own hands. He couldn't just sit there. He had to find Marik and tell him everything before it was too late. He just had to. He wasn't going to sit around and do nothing. He had to try.

If only Bakura wouldn't be so stubborn for once. If only Ryou's words could reach him. But it was obvious that only Marik would be the only one able to convince Bakura. Right now, Bakura's rage and heartbreak was utterly clouding his judgment. He knew Bakura would never want Marik to fall in the hands of Mariku. He cared for him too much. But right now Bakura himself was too distressed to accept the fact that it could very well happen. But it didn't matter right now. Right now, matters were about to get far worse if Ryou didn't hurry.

He wasn't sure what direction to go in, but he didn't have time to think about it. He started running whichever way his instincts told him, struggling to keep his balance on the constantly shifting and loose desert sands. The breeze blew sands toward his eyes, making it hard to see efficiently. But he kept going. That's all he could do.

It surprisingly wasn't long before he noticed a few lighted buildings against the dark night sky. He made it over to about where Marik had tried to build his so-called sandcastle on Bakura and Marik's date, but he was no longer there. He assumed he probably went back to the hotel room by now, and then sprinted back for the town. He felt like his lungs were going to give in any second now, but he had to keep going. And he had to just pray he was too late.

When he reached the hotel building, he searched his pockets for Bakura's key to the hotel room. He sighed in relief when he found it, and entered the hotel. He didn't bother to take the elevator, it would probably just take longer anyways. Ryou quickly climbed the stairs to the third floor and made his way to the far left room. He swung open the door without thinking.

"Marik?" Ryou called out in the small hotel room. All the lights were turned out, as if no one was in it. Without hearing a response, Ryou shut the door behind him and looked around for a light switch. But he froze when he noticed a dark figure standing in front of the window, with the moonlight seeping out of the blinds just barely making him visible. A cruel cackle followed, sending a chilling aura up the back of Ryou's spine.

"Welcome back, heart breaker," Mariku snickered. Ryou looked to the blackened silhouette in shock.

"M-Mariku…?" Ryou stuttered in fear. He was too late after all.

Ryou began to shake viciously. He didn't have a chance against Mariku. And there was no way he could possibly think of to reach Marik now. Not on his own. He looked down toward the Millennium Ring. He still couldn't feel Bakura's presence. He probably wasn't watching him, or even aware of the current situation at this point. Ryou was on his own. He probably should have thought this through more, but he didn't give himself time to think. He didn't want to assume that Marik had already transformed.

"Oh?" Mariku laughed and walked up to the trembling Ryou. He smirked widely, "You're not the one I was expecting." Mariku's laughed felt twice as threatening in the dark. Ryou stepped backward from Mariku, slowly moving his hand up on the doorknob from behind. He had to get out of here. He had no hope of defending himself against the likes of Mariku. He was just too strong. Just too merciless. He had no doubt in his mind that dying here was a major probability at this point. He had to get out. He had to run. Mariku didn't even need to use any shadow powers, he could crush Ryou with just physical strength alone. Probably just one finger if he so pleased.

Mariku grabbed Ryou's arm as he tried to turn the knob and yanked him forward. Ryou looked up in fear, absolutely terrified, staring into those cold violet eyes of his. Mariku's hair stood upward, wild and pointing in every direction as he smirked fiercely. "Going somewhere, little Hikari? Do I scare you?"

"I-I-" Ryou tried to move backward once more, but Mariku kept him in a tight grip.

"Why don't you bring your other half out? After all, I would love to thank him for letting me resurface once more. I couldn't have done it without him." Mariku laughed, "But this time I won't let that fool get the better of me." Mariku looked down at Ryou, feeling his body trembling before him. "Then again, you on the other hand, would be a lot more fun to play with." Mariku pulled Ryou to his face and licked the side of his cheek seductively, while also placing a hand around his waist and shoved him toward him. Ryou yelped and tried to squirm from his grip, but he felt his arm almost about to snap under Mariku's intense pressure. But that just made Mariku's wild grin grow even more intensely. The more Ryou struggled, the louder he cackled.

Ryou let a tear slip down his face. Was this it? Was he about to die here? When he had offered his soul up to Bakura to sacrifice, he didn't feel nearly as scared as this. Because that time, it was his decision. That time, his sacrifice would be to save someone else. But right now, he would die in vain, unable to save Marik from this monster, and unable to get Bakura to see the light. He was completely useless. He hated it. But there wasn't a thing he could do to prove otherwise. And right now, he was about to die in cold blood.

"Don't worry," Mariku snickered, wiping off the tear from his face, "I play nice." Mariku reached with his free hand for the Millennium Rod that was behind his back.

Ryou's eyes widened as he uncapped the hidden blade using his free hand and teeth. Mariku let the blade slide on his tongue before holding the blade up to Ryou's neck. Ryou yelped once more and his eye twitched in pain as he felt the sharp pain of the tip slightly pierce his skin. He could feel a strip of warm blood run down his neck and get absorbed by the red cloak he was wearing.

"B-Bakura…?" Ryou shivered, glancing down at the Millennium Ring. There was still no response. He was selfish to think that Bakura would come out to save him after what he had put him through. Bakura must have hated him. He knew that. And maybe he deserved this fate. He was meddling in affairs that didn't concern him. But he was just so terrified at this point. He didn't know what else to do.

Mariku's laughter doubled hearing Ryou's fruitless and desperate plea. He licked his lips and pulled the knife slowly backward. He was about to plunge in for the kill. Ryou closed his eyes, not being able to watch, with tears still flowing down his face. "I'm sorry Marik… I'm sorry Bakura…" Ryou whispered to himself.

"Die fool!" Mariku grinned, jabbing the blade toward Ryou's neck. Ryou cringed in terror, waiting for the blow. His heart was pounding.

But suddenly, his free arm flung forward and caught Mariku by the wrist. He dug his nails into Marik's skin, just under the gold jewelry he was wearing, causing Mariku to twitch slightly and pain and release the rod from his grip, just before he had pierced the boy's neck. Mariku looked toward the boy, whose mane now had two strange stubs of hair sticking up from the top, and the tears in his eyes abruptly stopped flowing with a cold, unafraid, and murderous expression.

"Get your hands off my Yadonushi, you bastard." Bakura spat.

…


	12. Game Start

Chapter 12: Game Start

"Well, well. Look who came crawling back," Mariku cackled, peering over to the boy who was now Bakura once more.

"I'm not in the mood," Bakura snarled, tightening his dig into Mariku's skin. Mariku continued to laugh, as if he felt no pain whatsoever. Dammit. Was this seriously happening again? Ryou had warned him this would happen, but he didn't honestly believe him. Not in the moment. It just wasn't fair. Why did Marik have to get himself in such life threatening situations? Why couldn't Marik just disappear from his life already? It just wasn't fair… Why couldn't he just stop caring for this loser like he said he did!? He's caused him enough pain as it is. He just wanted to stop giving a damn already. If Marik didn't care, then why should he!?

"I've been wanting to thank you. After all, I could have never regained control over this fool's body without your help," Mariku taunted. Bakura clutched Mariku's arm even tighter hearing his words.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Bakura hissed. Was he trying to say that it's his fault Mariku is back here? How was this his fault? Mariku laughed even louder.

"As if you don't know," Mariku smirked, yanking his arm away and letting Bakura's nails rip through his outer flesh. He quickly retrieved the Millennium Rod from the floor and recapped it. Bakura fought the urge to pounce on him and snap his neck. "You only broke the poor boy's heart."

"And how's that?" Bakura growled.

"How dense are you? It was when you just got up and left the brat to rot away in the sand, and right after he had just confessed how he felt toward you too. How cruel." Mariku laughed.

"He didn't confess anything to me except for how much he didn't give a damn. So how could I possibly have broken the heart of someone who didn't care about me?" Bakura snapped back. Mariku cackle grew even harsher. His shriek was almost like a dagger itself. He couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"You really are a fool! Must I really explain this to you?" Mariku taunted, "Let me ask you this, why is it do you think I don't just take over this poor boy's body whenever I feel like it?" Bakura didn't respond. What did that have anything to do with it? "Not even a guess? Well I'll tell you. It's because of the brat's half-brother." Mariku was referring to Rishid. "That fool's love for my little host gave him the inner strength to block me out," Mariku cringed slightly in disgust, "So when he was away from him, it was the perfect chance for me to strike."

That explained how Mariku could emerge the first time, but what did that have anything to do with Bakura? Didn't he just say that it was his fault Mariku was able to come back?

"And why should I care?" Bakura growled. Mariku continued to snicker.

"That's the reason I took over the first time. But why do you think I didn't just come back a second time right after our little tussle?" Mariku asked.

"How the hell should I know? Why should I even care? And what does this have to do with anything?"

Mariku laughed. "You still don't see it? Think about it. Rishid still wasn't around the second time, yet I couldn't come back. Why do you think that is? Maybe because my poor little host put his faith in someone else. Someone else gave him the same strength inside him that Rishid did in order to keep me away. And who else? That person was you, you fool. Because the poor brat actually fell in love with you." Mariku cackled.

Bakura didn't want to hear anymore. Marik didn't love him. He was just some nobody whose only affection came from pity. He knew that. And Bakura had to accept that and stop caring about him. He needed to get his life back on the path he set out to do. He wasn't going to let anyone that tried to sympathize with him run his life. And he wasn't going to believe anything this guy had to say and give him false hope that Bakura was wrong and that Marik did actually love him. Because Bakura knew he was right. Pity wasn't love. Marik didn't love him.

"That's a lie! You're lying! Marik doesn't care about me and you know that too. So stop trying to play your mind games on me because they aren't going to work. I'm not falling for it!"

"What reason do I have to lie? I'm only thanking you after all," Mariku snickered, "And you and I know this was well before he pulled out the waterworks earlier."

Bakura hesitated slightly. Yes, that was true. If the reason Marik could suppress Mariku was the fact he loved Bakura, then it would have been before Marik figured out his past. But- but that couldn't have been true. Mariku must have been lying. He probably fabricated the whole story about the reason Marik could suppress him. There was no proof. Mariku was lying. He had to be.

"I told you I'm not falling for it," Bakura insisted in a sneer. Mariku gave out a fake sigh.

"What? You want proof or something? Fine. But only because I'll find it hilarious to see your face when you realize it. Don't you remember when he asked you what love felt like?"

Bakura paused again. Of course he remembered that. But how was that proof that Marik loved him? Mariku continued, "He asked you that because he figured out that he was feeling something toward you. That he was feeling love. And he asked you because he needed to make sure that it was true."

Bakura remained silent. He never did figure out why in the world an idiot like Marik would ask something like that. But… What Mariku just said did make some sort of sense. Dammit. Why did it make sense? But it did. Marik probably wasn't sure what love felt like either, he was too much of a moron. So if he started to feel something, and if he started to suspect it might possibly be love, he probably would want to see if it was or not. And Bakura wouldn't be surprised that he would just bluntly just ask. That was Marik after all. Yes, that did make some sort of sense. No. It made a lot of sense. And he couldn't think of any better explanations.

But was it true? How could Bakura believe this guy? He kept thinking about it. But things in his head were beginning to click together once again. A new puzzle was forming, destroying his previous puzzle of conclusions.

Bakura thought. And if that was true, if Marik realized he loved him when he asked him that question, then Marik would have loved him before he figured out anything about Bakura's past. Then, Marik's love wasn't based off of pity or sympathy. And when Marik cried for him, it was because he truly did want to be by his side. He didn't want Bakura to be alone because Marik was there to love him. Marik really was trying to say he loved him. Marik did in fact love Bakura after all. He didn't feel sorry for him. He loved him. Plain and simple.

But Bakura, just left him there. He abandoned him. Marik probably would assume that he rejected his love. And if that was true, Marik would have been absolutely devastated. Heart broken. Crushed. Bakura thought back to what Mariku had said about him being able to take over. Since Marik loved him, and if Bakura really was the reason that Marik had found the strength to keep Mariku out, then the moment he left him, Marik would have felt betrayed. And then, it would make sense why Mariku is standing here. Because Bakura broke the only bond the kept Mariku out of Marik's heart. He slapped Marik in the face when he so desperately tried to show his love. He even kissed him. How did Bakura not see it before? It seemed so obvious now. Bakura couldn't deny that Mariku was telling the truth now. He couldn't deny that Ryou was right as well. Bakura… Was wrong after all.

Dammit. Dammit. Dammit.

Bakura's eyes widened. He went through it over and over. He wanted to deny it. He wanted to shoot the thoughts dead once more. But it made too much sense. Everything was coming together.

Bakura felt his heart stop. Shit. No. No. No. This couldn't be happening. Marik did love him, and Bakura turned his back on him. He let this monster take over him once again. Marik's life was in jeopardy now and it was all his fault. Marik must have felt like Bakura betrayed him. Bakura did betray him. And he must hate him now.

Mariku busted out laughing wildly.

"That face is just too good! So you realized it now, haven't you?" Mariku giggled sinisterly, "How cruel of you. And to think, you were too foolish enough to even realize it by yourself. Pathetic."

Dammit. How could he have been so blinded by rage? And how could he have honestly thought that Marik would be cold enough to not actually care for Bakura even though he showed the sighs? Marik wasn't like that. Bakura knew that. But he still let himself be fooled. How could be be so oblivious? He hated himself. He was being so selfish. He never even once thought about how Marik really felt.

Mariku uncapped the blade once more and pointed it toward Bakura. Bakura's reflexes automatically made himself shuffle for his knife. But when he put his hand in his back pocket, he felt nothing. Bakura's gritted his teeth. Dammit. That was right. He had thrown the knife at Ryou earlier in his rage and never picked it back up. He then thought back at Marik. He looked back up to Mariku. Maybe he deserved what he was about to get anyways. Why did he deserve to live after what he did to Marik? If he made Marik crawl into despair and fall victim to a monster like Mariku. He probably caused Marik more pain than any knife possibly could. How could Bakura have let it happen? Marik was the person he cared for more than anyone. And he hurt him more than he's hurt anyone else ever before.

Bakura was a coward. He just couldn't accept things as they were. He let his pride get in the way. And now look at the mess he made. He ran away from the truth, and it only caused more pain. Should he have expected anything different? He was Bakura, after all. But still. Still..

Bakura cursed the world under his breath. He dropped he his knees and punched the floor as hard as he could. "I'm so sorry Marik…" Why was he such an idiot? He turned his back on Marik when he needed him the most. Bakura deserved to die. He wouldn't be able to live with himself knowing what he did to Marik. Marik for sure hates him. Bakura knew it without a doubt. If only he could see him one more time. He just wanted to make things right now. And even if Marik still hated him, he wanted to make sure that Marik at least knew that he did love him. And how incredibly sorry he was for letting this happen to him.

Mariku busted out laughing once more. "Apologize all you want, but he can't hear you were he's at. Maybe if you hadn't shattered his heart into pieces, things would be different," Mariku continued to laugh, "But don't worry. He won't have to suffer much longer. I'll make sure to end him soon after I'm through with you." Mariku smirked, letting the blade of the rod shine in the slips of moonlight.

Bakura shot back up at him. He had enough. Mariku could take his life all he wanted, but Bakura owed Marik. More than anything. It was the least he could do now. But no matter what, Bakura would protect Marik from Mariku. He wasn't about to let this monster have his way with him. It still wouldn't make up for Bakura's sins, but he wasn't just going to let it happen. Not now. He owed that to Marik. He cared about him too much to let this monster dwell inside him any longer. He can't fix his mistakes, he can't make Marik not hate him anymore. But he can fix this.

And he knew exactly how.

"Why don't we play a shadow game?" Bakura's shot back up, and he now glared murderously into the ears of Mariku. But Mariku just laughed.

"And why should I? I could cut you down right now if I wanted to." Mariku snickered, pushing the rod closer to his neck.

"Because you can kill me, but you can't kill Marik." Bakura stated. Mariku raised an eyebrow, and removed the rod slightly from his neck. "You know that's true."

"Go on," Mariku pressed impatiently. Because no matter what Mariku said, he did know that it was indeed true.

"In this shadow games, we'll bet our own souls. The loser will obviously lose their soul to the shadows. However, in this case, the winner of the game will also lose their Hikari's soul as well." Bakura explained. Wait, what? Was Bakura going crazy? Has he just lost it? Or… Did he have a plan? Mariku peered strangely at him.

"You're not serious, are you?" Mariku smirked, "So even if you win. Even if you destroy me, you really would be willing to just throw away your other half?" Bakura didn't respond. He kept his glance pressed on Mariku. Mariku laughed. He wanted nothing more than to be rid of the soul that kept him at bay. Then no one could stop him. And not only that, but he would eliminate Bakura along with him. It seemed too good to be true. Even if Bakura had lost his mind, he didn't care. It was all the better for him. And he knew he would win. "Deal."

"Wait, there's one more condition," Bakura spoke up.

"Just speak up." Mariku honestly didn't care.

"Before we begin the game and our souls split, you let me talk to Marik first."

"Whatever," Mariku laughed, "I hope you know that once we start you can't back out of this. It'll be set in stone."

"I'm well aware of that." Bakura growled. Mariku smirked.

Mariku lifted his rod into the air. The Millennium Rod glowed brightly, piercing the darkness of the room, but then surrounding them with even more, consuming the both of them in an endlessly dark abyss. A chilling aura flowed out of the rod as shadows began to overtake the hotel room. They lost sight of everything, leaving just a black area of nothingness. Mariku's rod stopped glowing, as they now had now both been placed in a shadow room.

Bakura's stomach churned, feeling as if his mortal body would break under the pressure. But it wasn't long before his soul split with that of Ryou's, which only was possible being in the shadow realm. They now stood in two separate bodies. Ryou was in his normal body, looking around in confusion and disarray. Bakura walked over to him, he needed to explain to him the current situation.

Ryou was still shaking from earlier, and he was still having trouble standing up under the pressure of this realm. When Bakura was over him, Ryou looked up to him in a startled manner, still very much frightened.

"W-who are you?" Ryou stuttered. Bakura was shocked as he watched Ryou tremble in fear at him. What did he mean? He didn't recognize him?

Bakura looked down at his hands. He had never actually played a shadow game in which his host's body would split with his soul, since Ryou was a part of the bet as well. His hands were surprisingly not pale like that of Ryou's. No. They were tan. Bakura looked at his body. He was still in the same attire as in the hotel, red cloak and white t-shirt, but… He was much more muscular and a lot taller. Bakura was dumbfounded. He moved his hands to his right cheek instinctively. He felt something rigid. He felt… His scar. His old scar. The one in his old body. He was in his original body right now, instead of Ryou's.

He supposed it made somewhat sense that he would appear in his original form, but he hadn't expected it. He looked back down to Ryou, who was wincing in slight pain and trying to figure out where he was.

"Ryou, it's me," Bakura said. Ryou looked back up in somewhat shock. He recognized the voice immediately.

"B-Bakura? What happened to you? Why do you look like that? And where are we? All I remember was-" Ryou paused slightly, remembering what had happened, "M-Mariku…" Bakura crouched down next to Ryou.

"This is my real body," Bakura paused. His tone became stern, "And you were right Ryou… But right now I'm about to have to shadow game with Mariku. And I need you to not panic to what I'm about to tell you, alright? I need you to listen to me carefully. I have a plan. Don't freak out." Ryou nodded a little hesitantly but listened to what Bakura had to say. He whispered to him and explained the rules and the stakes, and also his idea.

"B-Bakura, you can't do that-! And what if it doesn't work?! Then-!" Ryou stammered. Ryou let a tear drop from his face. But Bakura ignored him.

"Don't worry. This will work," Bakura said confidently.

Mariku walked up to them from a distance with a sinister grin on his face. He slightly raised his eyebrow as he looked at Bakura's new form, but then just laughed it off. Mariku looked exactly the same as he did before, considering he wasn't an ancient spirit anyways. He was more of a parasite than anything else, who lived off of Marik and wanted his body for himself.

"I'll give you five minutes," Mariku gestured over to Marik's body that was passed out in the clouds of darkness. Bakura rushed over without thinking.

He felt slight relief, but he was also scared at the same time. He needed to prepare himself for what Marik was going to say. Marik was going to hate him. There was no way he could forgive him. He knew that. But even so, he needed to say this. He needed to get it out. He needed Marik to know.

"Marik-" Bakura called out, shaking his body lightly to try and get him to wake up. He was probably already extremely weak from having Mariku overpower him, but the realm of shadows would also be taking a heavy toll on his mortal body.

Marik winced, moving his arm to try and grab something around him to help him regain balance. Bakura held his body steadily as he slowly sat up. Marik rubbed his head in pain and looked around for a moment, not noticing Bakura yet, gasping for air and trying to grasp what was going on.

"Marik…" Bakura sighed softly. How could he face him? Marik turned around quickly in fright and shock to see who had said his name.

When he turned around, he looked up in a startled manner at Bakura. Bakura felt a pain in his heart throb at him. He knew he couldn't make things right. He should have known all along that Marik had loved him. But it was too late now.

Suddenly, Marik began to cry with all his strength, tear rolling down his face in an endless cycle. Bakura looked down in despair. He began to tear up as well.

"Marik, I'm so sor-" Bakura began. But to his shock, Marik grabbed him and wrapped his arms around him.

"You came back!" Marik cried, tears still pouring down his face and staining Bakura's t-shirt. He remembered that he described to Marik what he had looked like, and he also probably recognized his voice like Ryou did, but that wasn't what shocked him. Did Marik… Not hate him after all?

Tears viciously rolled down Bakura's face now. He pat Marik on the head as he continued to cry in his chest.

"No. No Marik, Ryou was the one who came back. I don't deserve the credit. I was too stubborn… I'm so… So sorry Marik." Bakura choked up, "I left you there like that… I let this monster take control of you again… It's all my fault… I turned my back on you…" Bakura swallowed hard, "I know I can't fix what I did. I understand if you hate me-"

"No-" Marik interrupted, he clutched himself tightly to Bakura, "I don't hate you Bakura. How could I? I- I love you, Bakura!" Marik cried. He finally said it. The words danced in Bakura's chest, making him feel a warmth that surpassed the chilling aura of the realm of shadows. Dammit. Marik was just too good. Bakura didn't deserve those words. He didn't deserve to let himself be happy. It wasn't fair to Marik. "I was so scared that you wouldn't come back! You don't have to return my feelings- but I don't want you to leave again! I don't want you to go-"

Bakura interrupted Marik's plea and gently pulled Marik from his chest and kissed him just as gently right on the lips. Marik's tears stopped in shock and joy at the same time. Bakura broke away slowly to speak.

"No Marik. I love you too. More than I want to admit. I suspected it a while ago. But I was too much of an idiot to accept it. And I was too much of an idiot to realize that that's what you were telling me earlier. I really didn't mean to leave you. God. I'm so sorry. It drives me crazy to think of life without you. The reason I walked off because I thought you didn't care. But I was an idiot. I should have known better." Bakura looked away. He still felt the guilt in his heart. Part of him wanted Marik to blame him. But part of him was so incredibly happy he didn't. "Damn it. I love you Marik..."

"Really…?" Marik asked, a little taken. He almost couldn't believe Bakura had said he loved him. He'd never imagined to ever hear those words from him. And he knew, that Bakura could never say something like that and not mean it. He saw the pain in his eyes right now. He knew Bakura was telling the truth. He didn't need an answer. Marik's heart fluttered and felt light as a feather.

"Yeah." Bakura confirmed. Marik couldn't help but cry again, but this time not of sadness, but of joy. Pure joy. He wrapped himself around Bakura and smiled.

"Thank you, Bakura," Marik whispered. But Bakura was confused.

"For what?" He wondered. But Marik didn't respond. He was too caught up in the moment.

Marik pulled his face from his chest and looked up at Bakura. "You know, Bakura. I still think I'm much sexier than that body."

Bakura almost had to double take to realize what Marik had said. But the words set Bakura at ease. He laughed purely. And surprisingly he felt his guilt beginning to subside. He felt his heart slowly beat in sync with that of Marik's.

"Yeah, right," he laughed. Marik laughed too. Both their tears had come to a stop. It felt almost like a dream now, even though they were surrounded by darkness. They could feel lights in their hearts beaming through the shadows as they wrapped their arms around one another.

"Promise you won't leave me again," Marik whispered. But those words made Bakura freeze. He hesitated. He looked down, then back over to Mariku who was impatiently tapping his foot in the distance. He had almost forgotten the current situation in all that was going on. He pulled Marik away from him gently and looked him in the eye.

"Marik, right now we're in a shadow room. And I've already agreed to play a shadow game with Mariku, so it can't be undone." Bakura explained.

"W-what!?" Marik stammered. He'd forgotten that Mariku took over his body. He didn't even bother looking where he was or why Bakura was in his normal body. Marik knew that shadow games were bad news. And Mariku in general was bad news, so he knew this couldn't be good. Bakura looked down slightly, then back up to Marik.

"Do you trust me Marik?" Bakura asked in a dead serious tone. Marik cocked his head in confusion.

"Yes," Marik replied in a confused tone. Bakura smiled at him and patted him on the head.

"Then don't worry. I'm going to protect you," Bakura gently brushed Marik's hair behind his ear and stood up. He turned around and began to walk toward Mariku.

Marik grabbed his hand before he could go.

"W-wait, you didn't promise me…" Marik said. Bakura froze again. He didn't say anything back. Instead he just turned his head, smiled gently at him, and then continued to walk off.

Marik had an awful feeling in his stomach. He looked down. Why couldn't Bakura say it?

Bakura made it over to Mariku and glared at him sinisterly.

"My, my, that was rather touching, wasn't it?" Mariku scoffed. Bakura scowled back.

"I'm ready."

"Well it's about time," Mariku smirked, "Do you have a game in mind?"

"Yes," Bakura replied dryly. He looked back toward Ryou, then back toward Marik, then to the ground, then back to Mariku. This had to be done. He had to do it. For Marik. He was going to save him. Not just for this one time, but for all times. He was going to make Mariku disappear for good. He would send him to a place he couldn't hurt him anymore.

He was so happy that Marik didn't hate him after all. He was so glad that he told him how he felt, and Marik accepted it as well. He was so happy that Marik was willing to be there for him, even though he didn't deserve it. He felt his heart singing gently. He finally felt at peace with himself.

Bakura looked back once more to Marik.

Sorry Marik. But Bakura wasn't able to make the promise he asked for.

Mariku grinned widely, "Game start!"

…


	13. For The Person He Loves

Chapter 13: For The Person He Loves

The cold, numbing aura of the shadows brushed against Bakura's face. Mariku cackled across from him in the only psychotic manner that he knew how.

"So what is it we're playing then?" Mariku asked. Bakura let all his emotions fade away. He needed to concentrate now.

"What else but a card game?" Bakura smirked. He held out his hand and concentrated on his deck. It soon began to appear little by little in his palm. "I assume you know how this works."

Mariku smirked back at him and held out his hand as well. He imagined his deck for a brief moment and made it appear before him as well. "I never expected to be going back to Duel Monsters," Mariku remarked sarcastically.

Bakura shuffled through his deck quickly to make sure his card was in it, which it was. But now the only hard part was drawing it at the right moment, along with trying to keep within the specifics of the effect without losing first. If he slipped up, even once, this strategy wasn't going to work. And even if he didn't slip up, there was still a chance that the specifics of the card would become unable to meet just by Mariku's actions. So this was a long shot, but it was the only shot he had now. He had to believe. It's all he could do.

Bakura was never one to believe in the heart of the cards bullshit that the Pharaoh tried pushing on everybody else. But right now, if something like that did indeed exist, he only prayed that it would be on his side for this one time, and this one time alone. This is the only time it truly did matter to him.

They handed each other their decks and shuffled them thoroughly, then handed them back to each other. Mariku went over next to Marik, and Bakura stood next to Ryou.

"I hope you didn't already say goodbye to my precious host. After all, your souls will be trapped in the shadows together," Mariku snickered. Marik kept his gaze focused on Bakura, and Ryou was looking down in despair.

"Just start already," Bakura growled.

"If you insist," Mariku snapped his fingers. Chains arose from the ground, tying Mariku and Bakura's feet to the ground so that they couldn't move their legs. Soon after, chains pinned Ryou and Marik down to the floor as well. Ryou and Marik yelped in shock and tried to squirm from the chains. Ryou looked back at Bakura. There was confidence beaming in Bakura's eyes. He had to win. He had to win or else Marik would die. And Ryou would probably fall by the hands of Mariku as well. This was it. Failure was not an option at this point. He just had to win.

"If you're scared Ryou, don't be," Bakura turned toward Ryou. He gave a confident smirk, "This is going to work."

"I'm not worried about myself! But Bakura… If it does work, then you'll… you'll-" Ryou began, but he was interrupted by Bakura.

"Let's go," he called out to Mariku. Mariku smirked as they both drew five cards from their decks. Bakura's hand went as followed; Spirit Message "T", Dark Necrofear, Necroface, Cemetery Bomb, and Contract with the Dark Master. Bakura was beginning to realize that his occult deck probably wasn't the best for his strategy, but he couldn't change it now. He drew one more card, Raigeki Break, to start off his turn. It wasn't the key card he needed, nor did he have it in his hand. But then again, it would probably be best if he didn't draw it just yet, in case Mariku pulled any hand discarding cards.

"I place Necroface in attack mode," [ATK: 1200, DEF: 1800], Bakura tossed the card into the air, and watched as it came to life before all of their eyes. Since this was a shadow realm, there was no need for duel disks, and these weren't holograms. "And then I place one more card face down. That ends my turn." Bakura finished.

Mariku smirked, "You won't win by playing weak cards like that in attack mode." Mariku drew a card and laughed. "I place Archfiend Soldier, in attack mode, and I think I'll attack your Necroface." [ATK: 1900, DEF: 1500]. They both watched as the card took form when Mariku tossed it into the air and darted toward Necroface, slicing it in two without breaking a sweat. Bakura cringed, feeling a stinging pain in his chest as his life point count went down. [Bakura: 7300 LP, Mariku: 8000 LP]. "I think I'll place two cards face down and end my turn." Mariku smirked, gesturing to Bakura.

Bakura drew again to get Destiny Board. But it was useless to him in this fight.

"I pass," Bakura said. Marik became restless.

"Bakura, what are you doing!?" Marik called out, "You can't let this guy win!" Mariku laughed at his sudden outburst.

"Maybe he wants to lose," Mariku suggested, "Maybe he's too afraid of losing his poor Hikari's soul. Maybe he cares about him more than you."

"What're you talking about?" Marik looked back toward Ryou. What did he mean? Wasn't the shadow game for Bakura and Mariku's soul? What did he mean about Ryou and his?

"Hah! He didn't even tell you the stakes, did he?" Mariku laughed. Bakura growled. "The winner of this game loses their other soul as well as destroying their opponent."

"What? But then Ryou-" Marik looked toward Ryou. That meant if Bakura won, Ryou would die. But Marik knew Bakura enough to know he would never take that risk. So why would he agree to a game like this? And… If Mariku won, that meant the he would die…

"Don't worry Marik," Bakura beamed a confident smile, "I know what I'm doing." Marik looked back toward Bakura. He remembered what he had told him moments before; trust him.

"Are you so sure about that?" Mariku laughed and drew another card. "I sacrifice my monster to summon Great Maju Garzett!" [ATK: 0, DEF: 0] "This monsters attack becomes twice the original attack of my sacrificed monster," [ATK: 3800, DEF: 0]. Mariku laughed. "It looks to me like you were in over your head. Attack, my beast!"

The fiend darted up to Bakura and slashed him from behind. Bakura could swear he felt his flesh being shredded, but there was no blood. All he could feel was the unbearable pain from his whole body. Even death felt like a blessing compared to it. He fell down onto one knee, shaking, and making Mariku laugh even harder. [Bakura: 3500 LP, Mariku: 8000 LP].

Dammit. This wasn't looking good. Not at all. The conditions of his card weren't met yet, and if he took another direct attack like that, he would lose, meaning Marik would die. Dammit. No. He won't let that happen. But he didn't even have the card in his hand at this point. What if… What if he didn't draw it? What if he can't meet its conditions? Then... Marik really will die…

Bakura shook the thoughts from his head. Now wasn't the time to be thinking that way. "Now reveal magic card" One of Mariku's face down cards began to reveal itself. Bakura didn't recognize it. "This card requires the sacrifice of my life points, and what it-" Mariku was interrupted by Bakura.

"Wrong. Reveal trap!" Bakura flipped over Raigeki break, and discarded one of the destiny board cards from his hands, destroying the magic card Mariku tried to use. Mariku simply laughed and shrugged it off.

"Such a useless trap card," Mariku laughed, then ended his turn. Bakura drew Pot of Greed, and played it immediately. He then drew two more cards; Tribute to the Doomed and Newdoria. The key card still had yet to come up.

"First I discard a card from my hand, to play Tribute to the Doomed," Bakura held the card up. Mariku scowled slightly, "And you can guess which monster I'm destroying." Bakura pointed to his only monster as it faded into smoke. "Then I'll play Newdoria, in attack mode." [ATK: 1200, DEF: 800]. Marik looked toward Bakura in confusion. Why did he play it in attack mode again? That monster was weak, and he was running low on life points to spare. Did Bakura really have some sort of strategy? Or, was he bluffing after all? Marik looked down. No. He had to trust Bakura. After he just told him his feelings for him, there was no way Bakura would let Mariku claim Marik's body. He remembered back to what he said again; that he was going to protect him. But, but then what about Ryou? Marik looked toward Ryou, who looked frozen in despair.

"I end my turn with that," Bakura finished. Mariku raised an eyebrow then scoffed.

"You really have lost it, haven't you? You won't even attack me when I have no monsters on the field? What a fool!" Mariku laughed, then turned to Marik. "And remember, it's not just his life he's gambling with."

Marik scowled at him and turned away to keep his focus on Bakura. Bakura stayed silent as he glared murderously toward Mariku.

"Just go."

"With pleasure. It's you demise anyways." Mariku drew a card. "I play Infernity Archfiend. Crush his pathetic monster!" [ATK: 1800, DEF: 1200]. Mariku cackled as the fiend ripped open Newdoria with one swing. Bakura really did cough up blood this time. [Bakura: 3200 LP, Mariku: 8000 LP].

"When Newdoria is destroyed, I can destroy one monster on your side of the field." Bakura coughed. Mariku shrugged and watched as both of the monsters fade into darkness.

"Next I'll play Card Destruction." Mariku added. Bakura sighed in somewhat relief. At least he didn't have the card in his hand. They both discarded their hands and drew new one. Bakura's new hand was as followed; Gravekeeper's Servant, Dark Master – Zorc, Sakurestsu Armor, Prometheus – King of Shadows. "And that ends my turn." Bakura drew one more card; Heavy Storm.

So far everything was going according to plan, despite not having the key card in his hand yet. But he had to be careful to not let his life points reach zero.

"First I'll play heavy storm, getting rid of your face down. Next I'll place a face down of my own and then play Prometheus in attack mode." Bakura set Sakurestu Armor face down on the field and then threw up the monster card to make it come to life. [ATK: 1200, DEF: 800]

"I'm starting to think you have no powerful monsters in that pathetic deck of yours."

"I end my turn." Bakura hissed. Mariku smirked a drew once more.

"First I'll use the magic card Mystical Space Typhoon to get rid of your set card. Then I'll use Soul Exchange, letting me sacrifice your monster instead of mine as a tribute." Mariku laughed. Bakura hesitated a little. Now he was completely defenceless. And if Mariku summoned a card with more than 3200 attack points like he did before, than Bakura would lose. He had to pray that it wasn't going to be that powerful. Mariku continued. "I summon Ambitious Gofer in attack mode, and attack your life points directly!" [ATK: 2400, DEF: 100]. Bakura sighed in relief, seeing that the monster didn't have enough attack points to wipe him out just yet. The monster roared a deafening sound. Bakura cringed, feeling his muscles spasm and ache. [Bakura: 800 LP, Mariku: 8000 LP].

"I end my turn," Mariku laughed. Bakura blinked in awe. The conditions of the card he could use to defeat Mariku were now met. But... He didn't have it in his hand. He needed to draw it. Right now. It was his only chance. Or else he'd lose the next turn. He looked in his hand. All the cards he had right now were useless in stopping Mariku's attack. So if he didn't draw it, his fate was sealed. No. Marik's fate was sealed. Dammit. He couldn't let it happen. He needed to draw it!

Bakura placed his hand on his deck, but hesitated. He felt his hand begin to shake and tremble. He'd never had anything ride so much on the drawing of a card. He closed his eyes. He'd gone through about ten cards at least, so the probability was one in about thirty. Dammit. That wasn't very high, was it? Why did it have to come down to the drawing of one measly card like this? One damn card. It wasn't fair. Why did fate have to mock him? Have to put so much pressure on this? He peered up to Marik, who was staring at him in concern. He told Marik he would protect him. He promised that to him and himself. He owed Marik that. He loved Marik… He just couldn't let this happen to him.

Damn this heart of the cards shit. It wasn't fair. God has always mocked him. Fate was never on Bakura's side. He never had any luck either. Why did it have to come down to a damn game of luck?

No. Bakura wouldn't have it. He wasn't going to let Marik's fate be decided by a game of chance. He loved him too much for that.

He poured every ounce of himself into this card. Every ounce of hate, fear, sadness, lust, and love. All of his past, and all of his future. All he's every known to be true. Every emotions he's ever felt in the three millenniums he's living in the god forsaken world. He channeled it all into the card on the top of his deck. The card he was about to draw. He would bend fate itself and make this card appear. He would do whatever it took. He wasn't going to let fate decide this draw. Bakura already knew the outcome of this fight. He would draw the card. For Marik. For the person he loves! He will draw it!

Screw fate. Screw everything. This was for something much bigger.

Bakura drew the card. He didn't look at it. He set it on the field.

"You lose." Bakura declared, laughing, beaming a smirk of pure confidence. He crossed his arms and stared dead on into the eyes of Mariku. Marik and Ryou looked to Bakura in shock and confusion. He placed the card without looking at it, and then said that Mariku would lose? Has he lost it?

"I lose?" Mariku scoffed, "I don't suppose you even know what you just set down." Mariku began to laugh furiously. "You really have lost it! But whatever it is you put there, I assure you it won't make you win. Look at the score. How could you possibly turn this around with 800 measly life points? When I have all of mine?" Mariku laughed, but Bakura didn't flinch.

"Who said this card would make me win?" Bakura laughed. Mariku's laughter only grew.

"Is that a surrender I hear? You knew you'd lose from the start. Yet you still insisted on throwing away both you and this poor boy's life. How cruel!" Mariku snickered and turned to Marik. "How does it feel to be betrayed by the person you cared about?"

"No." Marik replied in a dead serious tone. He looked at Bakura's confidence, then shot a smile of confidence of his own. "I trust him. You're about to lose, Mariku." Marik turned back to Bakura and nodded slightly. He wasn't afraid right now. He knew Bakura would protect him. Bakura wasn't lying to him when he said he loved him. He trusted him.

Bakura smiled. He wanted to thank Marik for trusting him until the end. Mariku cringed slightly.

"Whatever. You're both crazy." Mariku sneered.

"Oh? Are we getting angry now? Or are you scared because you know when I end my turn you're threw?" Bakura smirked. Mariku scowled.

"Like hell I'm scared. What could you have possibly played that could save you now?" Mariku watched Bakura's unwavering confidence. He hated it. It disgusted him. He would rip that smirk off his face. There was no way he could turn this around. Just no way. Right? He didn't even know what the card he put down was. So how could it possibly help him. It just had to be a bluff.

Mariku grew angrier. He knew there was no way. But Bakura just kept smiling. He just looked so damn cocky. "Just end your turn, you fool," Mariku barked.

Bakura laughed. The tables were turned now. Bakura was the one mocking Mariku. Bakura was the one acting like he had the upper hand.

"I'm going to end you and this brat next turn, so stop your damn smiling!" Mariku snapped. Bakura just laughed.

"End turn." Bakura smirked. Mariku drew with all his force. He didn't bother to look at the card he drew.

"Gofer, attack hi-" Mariku was interrupted by Bakura.

"Stop right there! Because you lose! Reveal face down!" Bakura smirked.

This was it. If it wasn't the card he thought was there, then he really did lose. It would all be over. For him. No. For Marik.

Mariku growled as the card revealed itself. What the hell was it that made him think he could possibly win?

The card slowly revealed itself…

Mariku blinked in confusion at it. "Self-Destruct Button…?" He'd never heard of such a card before.

Bakura smiled at his words. They ran through his mind like a sweet melody. That was the right card, after all. He drew it. This was it. He was able to save Marik after all.

"You remember the conditions of the game right?" Bakura asked. Mariku didn't respond. "The winner of this duel would have their Hikari's destroyed, and the loser would have their own soul destroyed. Am I wrong?" Bakura watched as Mariku twitched in anger. A button soon formed in front of him, just waiting to be pressed. "Like I told you before, I never said this card would make me win. And never in the rules did it say there had to be a winner, right? So in theory, if we both lost, then the only souls that would be destroyed are our own."

"You're bluffing."

"Oh, am I? Would you like me to read the card for you?" Bakura laughed. Mariku hissed. "Here's what it says: You can activate this card when your Life Points are lower than your opponent's Life Points and the difference is 7000 points or more. Both player's life points become 0."

"What?" Mariku snarled and glared at him, "You wouldn't." Marik looked to Bakura in shock. That's what Bakura had planned? But that would mean they would hit 0 at the same time... Meaning… They would both lose… And if they both lost… Then Mariku wasn't the only person who would be destroyed. That would mean... Bakura would die with him. And that would mean, if Bakura had that planned out, he knew that from the start. He knew he would sacrifice himself to destroy Mariku. Tears began to flow down Marik's face uncontrollably. Bakura sacrifed himself to get rid of Mariku from him? He was willing to die… To protect him?

"Oh, I would."

"You're a fool! You planned on doing this from the start! You tricked me into doing this! You'd rather lose than to let someone else win? That's being a coward! Why would you sacrifice yourself for a brat!?" Mariku lost it. Bakura turned to Marik as he cried.

"He may be a brat. And an idiot. A moron. A wanker. A stupid fool. He's all of those things…" Bakura paused and smiled at Marik, "But I love him. And I won't let some monster like you threaten him anymore! So I hope you like fire, Mariku, because we're about to be sent to the depths of hell!"

Bakura slammed his fist down on the button.

"No!" Mariku shouted. The button glowed red, sending out a shock wave toward both Mariku and Bakura. When it reached both of them, it exploded, setting them both ablaze for a long moment.

[Bakura: 0 LP, Mariku: 0 LP]

"Damn you!" Mariku shouted, body now ceased from the flame, and he began to be eaten away by the darkness around them. He tried to swat it away, but it kept consuming him. He tried to run, but the chains were holding him down. He squirmed around as if he was being eaten alive, kicking around like a child.

Bakura felt his soul beginning to fade. The pain of the shadows were stinging through his flesh, his soul, his mind, everything. He slowly began to disappear in the darkness.

"Bakura!" Marik yelled out, tears still pouring down his face. He couldn't go over to him because he still had chains on his feet.

Bakura turned to Ryou, who was also crying. "R-Ryou," Bakura panted, "Take care of Marik for a while for me, okay?" Bakura smiled as his eyes twitched in pain.

"B-Bakura…" Ryou stuttered, eyes widening, watching his body fade away into the abyss.

"B-Bakura! You can't go! I love you!" Marik screamed, but it was too late. Just before Bakura was out of sight completely, he smiled up at Marik. A pure smile. One of true happiness.

Then, Bakura faded away along with Mariku.

The chains from Marik and Ryou's feet crumbled into nothing. The shadows faded around them, leaving them back into hotel room once more. Marik ran over to where Bakura had been, but he wasn't there. The only thing that was there was the lone Millennium Ring that he had been wearing, which was now on the floor, lifeless, just like the inanimate object it was, with the Millennium Rod likewise where Mariku had been.

"Bakura…!?" Marik shouted at the ring. He shook it with all his might. "Are you in there, Bakura!?" Marik's tears splashed onto the ring. He wouldn't accept it. Bakura just couldn't be gone. It couldn't have been true. He wouldn't leave him.

He looked toward Ryou with devastated eyes and tied the ring around his neck. "Is he there?" Marik asked desperately, tears still pouring from his eyes. But Ryou didn't need to try and contact Bakura to know he was no longer in the ring. Marik couldn't stop his tears. He felt himself hyperventilating and beginning to panic. He was in shock and pain all at the same time. He began to shake viciously. He just wanted Bakura back. Marik dropped down on all fours and let the tears continue to pour.

"M-Marik…" Ryou looked to him, tears now pouring from both of their faces. Ryou wrapped his arms around Marik in a hug as he continued to cry to try to comfort him. "I'm so sorry Marik…"

…


	14. Somber Mournings

Chapter 14: Somber Mournings

The sun rose to a gloomy and grim morning. There was a tenseness floating about in the cold, still air. Marik and Ryou hadn't been able to sleep. How could they? They wanted to believe that the events that transpired last night were all just one bad dream. A nightmare. But it couldn't have been, because Bakura was no longer with them. The Millennium Ring around Ryou's neck was reverted back into just a plain piece of jewelry once more.

Marik sat on his bed with his knees pulled up to his chest as he stared into the covers with an expression that was the complete opposite of his normal, happy, and carefree self. No, right now, there was just no way he could be that way. It had probably been at least twelve hours by now since the shadow game, but the mood showed no signs of lifting. How could it? Marik continued to stare, blankly, hopelessly, helplessly.

"Is he still not responding?" Marik managed to mumble, breaking the dead silence that filled the hotel room. His voice sounded dead, relieved of any life. Dry, dull, and filled with an unbearable pain. Ryou looked up at him from his bed at Marik. The agony in those violet eyes of his was obvious and heartbreaking. Ryou could tell immediately how badly Marik's heart must be bleeding right now. It was hard to look at someone with such a sorrowed expressed. Ryou turned back to staring blankly at the wall.

"…No," Ryou replied in grief. He looked down to the Millennium Ring at his chest. Should Ryou have been happy? After all, Bakura was his friends' enemy. But, how could he possibly think of Bakura in that way? Bakura protected Ryou more than often when he was in tight situations. And even if Bakura might not think so, Ryou always considered them to be friends at the very least. So of course he wasn't happy. He was far from it. His heart was filling with a deep pain.

"Y-you don't think…" Marik paused at this own words. He felt himself bleed without any real blood showing up. He felt an invisible knife pierce his heart as he began to tremble one more. Bakura did what he did to protect Marik. He couldn't stop the shivering. "T-that Bakura's really… Dead? I- I mean, he'll be back, right? Like he always is?" Marik turned desperately toward Ryou. He studied him carefully. He needed to hear or see something, anything, that would reassure him that Bakura wasn't gone for good. That he would come back again and they could pretend like none of this ever happened.

It just wasn't fair. Why did this all have to happen now, when they had finally realized their affections? It hadn't even been a full day. Everything happened so fast. Marik never even got the chance to dream about Bakura actually returning his feelings. But Bakura did. He actually said he loved him. Marik didn't know that it was even possible. But it was. And now that Bakura might be gone, Marik didn't know what to do. He loved him, he loved him so much. There was no way he was just going to move on. Never.

Ryou couldn't look back to Marik. He couldn't bear to see his pain staked expression as he expected Ryou to say something reassuring. Because Ryou himself wasn't sure that Bakura could return this time. And as things stood right now, it didn't look like it. Not at all.

"I-I'm so sorry, Marik…" That's all Ryou could bring himself to say. Marik felt a chill run up his spine as he tried to hold back his tears. But he couldn't. Why did Bakura have to protect him? Was it his fault that he was gone now? He remembered Bakura look at him just before he disappeared completely. He remembered him smiling at him. A real smile. A smile that was pure, and he looked truly was happy as he faded into the darkness.

Dammit. Why was he happy? Why did he have to do all that for Marik? It just wasn't fair. He remembered Bakura's words to him. The words swirled in his mind, almost as if they were mocking him; _"I love you Marik."_

Suddenly, Ryou was now in front of Marik, embracing him in a hug as the tears continued to pour from his face. Ryou let a few tears slide down his face as well.

"Marik," Ryou began, breaking the hug and looking to him. Marik tried as hard as he could to cease his crying to hear what he had to say. He wiped the tears from his eyes and tried to get a clear picture. "I want to give you something. Can you close your eyes for a moment?" Ryou tried to smiled sweetly at him, but the grief on his face was too apparent. Marik nodded, slightly wondering what he wanted to give him, but still too devastated over everything else to really think about it.

Marik closed his eyes and felt Ryou move behind him, fastening something around his neck. "Okay, open," Ryou said softly. Marik opened his eyes and looked toward his stomach to reveal that Ryou had put the Millennium Ring on him. He was slightly confused.

"B-but, Ryou…" Marik turned around to him. But Ryou simply smiled gently toward him.

"Don't worry, I want you to have it. Keep it for Bakura's sake. It'll be like a representation of his bond. He loved you very much, Marik." Ryou didn't want to say it, but the ring was all that was left of Bakura's memory. He knew it was best for Marik to hold onto it. Bakura meant so much to him, and Marik meant so much to Bakura as well.

Marik's tears began to flow heavily again. He didn't want to accept that Bakura was gone. He didn't want him to be out of his life. He wanted him desperately to just come back already. He felt so alone all of the sudden. If Bakura could come back, why didn't he already? Was he really gone…?

"T-thank you, Ryou," Marik wept. He tried to smile toward Ryou, but it was an impossible task at this point. Ryou nodded to him. The one thing Marik knew with all his heart now, was that Bakura really did love him. The thought made him feel warm, but it was abruptly interrupted by the thought that Bakura was gone now. He looked down toward the ring. He prayed with all his heart that the ring wouldn't remain his for a while. He prayed Bakura would return. That's all he could do. He felt so useless. But he wouldn't lose faith just yet. Bakura told him to trust him, and that's what Marik would do. He would trust in his return. That's all he could do.

"I think I'm going to try and get some sleep," Ryou added, "What about you?" Marik looked up at Ryou, but then looked down. He wiped the tears from the black markings under his eyes tried to smile once more at Ryou. It looked a lot better than it did previously, but it was still apparent to be ridden with grief.

"No, I think I'll stay up a bit longer," Marik replied. He wanted to wait for Bakura to return. That was the very least he could do. Ryou could still see the pain in his eyes, but he didn't argue. He nodded once again and went back over to his bed, then crawled under the sheets. He covered up his eyes from the sunlight that was peeking through the blinds, being that it was actually morning. Ryou quickly fell asleep, his body exhausted as he tried to move his thoughts into a more positive place, although it was just impossible.

Marik slightly smiled to himself. He was glad that Ryou was the person that Bakura had had as a host. Ryou was just so sweet and innocent, while Bakura was seemingly harsh and cold. It was odd, but they somehow balanced each other out. They were like a perfect match up, as if fate had chosen Ryou to wear the Millennium Ring. Marik always secretly knew how much Bakura cared about Ryou, although Bakura would probably never admit it. And now, he was starting to see why. Maybe it was odd, but Marik wouldn't he surprised if Ryou had subliminally rubbed off on Bakura. Somehow.

Marik layed himself down on the bed and looked up toward the ceiling. It was amazing how much had really happened in the past couple of days. It wasn't that long ago that the only thing on his mind was going to the evil council meeting and coming up with another plan to eliminate the Pharaoh. Had this all really happened in that short amount of time? In all the cheesy Shojo Manga that Marik had read, love was something that took a seemingly endless amount of times to realize, let alone confess and have the other person confess the same feelings as well.

But his thoughts turned sour once more as he began to move his thoughts back toward Bakura. Marik picked up the Millennium Ring from his stomach and let it glisten in a strand of light that was leeking in the room. It seemed a lot more beautiful as he looked at it now. Because this was the item that bound Bakura to this world. This was the thing that made it possible for him to have ever met Bakura in the first place. It was so long ago, that day in Battle City when Bakura had planted himself in front of his motorcycle.

Marik teared up a little. They really had been through so much. Remembering it all now was like a dream, but also a nightmare at the same time. Marik placed the ring gentle against his lip.

Marik whispered softly, so he could barely be heard in the silence of the hotel room. "If you can hear me Bakura, please come back." Marik paused slightly and tried to smile again, "Then we can get that friggin' Pharaoh once and for all." Marik joked, but tears flowed slowly down his cheek as he said it. He just wanted Bakura back.

Marik had forgotten how tired he really was, and fell asleep by mistake as he layed on the bed. He hoped that he would wake up in Bakura's arms again, just like he had done the other day. He prayed it.

…

_"Marik,"_ A voice called. Marik pulled the covers over his head. He was dead tired. He must have been dreaming. It just wasn't fair that a dream would interrupt his peaceful sleeping like this. He knew once he was conscious he would find himself back in his state of grief. But the voice didn't stop. _"Marik,"_ it said again, this time sounding slightly impatient.

"Not now, Bakura~! I'm trying to sleep," Marik groaned, turning over in his bed. But then his eyes flung open at what he just said. Wait, what? Did he just say Bakura? Yes, he swore that's who the voice he heard belonged to. Was this really a dream?

Marik flung up from his bed and looked toward the source of the voice that was standing over his bed. But, to his shock, it wasn't Bakura who he saw. It was… Himself…? But, that couldn't be, because he was himself. But, he looked slightly odd. His eyes were a lot sterner and his posture was completely different from his own.

He gawked in confusion at his own body as it looked like he was slightly disgusted at himself. He was looking at his attire, which was Marik's normal attire equipped with a too small purple shirt and tight leather pants that Marik had changed into, and his eyes were twitching with shame.

…Okay, this had to be a dream, right? The "other" Marik sighed, turning his attention away from his clothing and discomfort, and looked toward him.

_"Just why exactly are you wearing the Millennium Ring?" _The voice asked. Marik felt his heart jump. Yes, he was right, that definitely was Bakura's voice coming from him. Marik looked down at the Millennium Ring that he was wearing as he slept.

That's right. He was wearing the Millennium Ring. Which meant… Could that mean…? If this person was asking about the ring, could that mean that right now he was seeing had something to do with that ring? Which would mean that this person was the spirit of the Millennium Ring… Which was- which was- which was Bakura! And since Marik was wearing the ring, Bakura must take the form of whoever was wearing it. That made sense. But, was this real? Or was Marik still dreaming? He couldn't help but feel his heart skip out of itself and his eyes begin to well up with tears.

Marik looked back at the person to make sure. Yes, his posture looked just like Bakura's. He looked up to his eyes. His heart fluttered immediately. Yes- those eyes just couldn't lie. It had to be Bakura. Marik was sure of it.

"B-B-Bakura!" Marik stuttered, letting the tears fall down from his eyes. He shifted himself and flung himself at the "other" him to embrace him with a hug. But to Marik's shock, he went right through him, quite literally, and fell flat on the floor. The spirit couldn't help but to burst out laughing. But Marik didn't let it faze him one bit. Marik got back up and started closely at him.

"B-but, you are Bakura, right? This isn't a dream?" Marik asked with hopeful eyes, tears still falling. The other person looked to him in slight shock.

_"Well of course it's me. Who else were you expecting?"_ Bakura replied, raising an eyebrow.

"What do you mean?!" Marik stammered, tears pouring, "You jerk! I thought you were gone for good for Ra's sake! What do you mean of course?!" Marik's tears grew faster, "Do you have any idea how worried I was?! I was so scared!" Marik wept, trying to wipe the tears from his eyes, and fell back onto the floor as he cried. He was so thankful that Bakura was back now. He was crying not only from the pain of remembering how much he was worried, but because he was so happy at the same time.

Bakura looked at him in a startled manner, but then smiled brightly toward him. He bent down in front of Marik, and gestured as if he was wiping away some of his tears, even though Marik couldn't feel anything since he couldn't actually touch him.

"_I'm sorry Marik,"_ Bakura said softly, _"And no, this isn't a dream."_ Marik felt his heart skip in Bakura's attempt to comfort him. Marik looked at him in the eyes. It was a little awkward, being that he was looking at his body, but by looking at his eyes, he knew it was Bakura. And it was Bakura all the same. Marik wiped his tears and tried to compose himself.

"H-how are you back?" Marik wondered. Bakura looked back at him in slight confusion.

"_Well a part of my soul is forever bound to the Millennium Ring,"_ Bakura explained_, "So a shadow game has no effect on me. I just keep returning, usually after about twenty four hours."_ Bakura paused and scratched his head slightly, _"…I figured you knew that."_

Marik blinked at him in disbelief.

"What?!" Marik suddenly shouted, "Why the eff' didn't you tell me?! I've been worried friggin' sick! And Ryou has too! Don't you think that was an important fact you left out?! We thought you were dead! How the eff' were we supposed to know that!? And it didn't help that you acted like you really weren't coming back either!"

Bakura couldn't help but laugh. Part of him was almost glad Marik didn't know. It was strangely reassuring for him to know that Marik was so worried over him. And that he would get so mad over it. After all, Marik was Marik. And nothing could change that. Bakura was relieved by this. He felt his heart fill up with warmth once more.

"_Okay, I'm sorry, I'm sorry,"_ Bakura laughed.

"Why are you laughing dammit?! It's not funny!" Marik retaliated. "Don't you ever do that again!" The tears in his eyes were now gone. And although he appeared mad, on the inside he was really jumping for joy. He couldn't even begin to express how happy he was right now.

Ryou rubbed his eyes and sat up from his bed. He looked to Marik to see what all the noise was about, but the only thing he saw was Marik yelling at a wall.

"Um, Marik?" Ryou blinked in confusion at the sight. Marik turned to Ryou, who he had almost forgot was even there.

"Ah- Ryou! Look!" He pointed over to Bakura, "Guess who's here! And it's not me!"

_"He can't see me,"_ Bakura told him. Marik looked back at him in confusion.

"Why not?" He asked, looking back to Bakura. Ryou just got even more confused.

_"That's just how it works I guess. Only the person wearing the ring can see or hear me,"_ Bakura explained. Marik scratched his head slightly trying to comprehend it all. _"Here, put the ring of him. Your clothes are making me feel rather uncomfortable anyways… Besides, I need to talk to him."_

Marik looked back to Bakura in slight offense to that comment, but nodded and untied the ring from his neck. The moment he took it off, Bakura disappeared from his sight. Marik walked over to the bed and went behind Ryou, who blinked in confusion as Marik tied the ring back around his neck.

"What're you doing, Marik?" Ryou wondered. But his thoughts were interrupted when he heard a voice; Bakura's voice.

_"Ryou."_ Bakura said. Ryou turned quickly to see Bakura sitting next to him, who was now back in Ryou's body form, which he normally was in with two stray stubs of hair sticking up.

"B-Bakura?" Ryou looked at him and teared up slightly. But he wiped them away quickly before they became tears and smiled brightly at him in relief. Bakura was alright after all.

_"Sorry if I scared you two. I probably should have told you I would be back. Marik already gave me a hard time about it though, so you don't have to worry about lecturing me." _Bakura said somewhat jokingly. Ryou chuckled slightly at his comment. He looked back to Marik for a brief moment, who was getting teary eyed again, but fought the urge to cry. He was just so happy. Ryou then looked back to Bakura, who was staring at Marik and smiling gently at him subconsciously. Bakura noticed Ryou staring at him, then quickly reverted back to his usual expressions. Ryou chuckled again. He could always tell just be the way he looked at Marik how much he really cared for him. And it wasn't long before Ryou also realized that Marik had feelings for Bakura as well, even if they both took so long to realize it. And this went back way before they ended up being stuck here.

_"I guess I'm going to have to ask you to be my host for a while longer,"_ Bakura began.

"Do you have to ask?" Ryou smiled toward him. Bakura looked down slightly. He felt like he owed Ryou a lot, especially for forcing him to realize his feelings, no matter how mad he got at the time.

_"I won't force you to."_ Bakura added. But Ryou just smiled at him.

"Bakura, I never thought of you as some sort of parasite using my body. You should know that." Ryou smiled. Bakura was slightly surprised at his reaction. "So you don't have to keep calling me your host. Just keep calling me Ryou. We're friends, okay?"

Bakura hesitated a little. He wasn't sure what to say to that. It's not that he didn't like Ryou, but the word friend startled him. He'd never really ever had someone he could call a friend before. But it wasn't a question if he would consider Ryou his friend or not. Because he did. And now, not only could he consider to have a friend, but he also had Marik, someone very special to him. Someone he dared to say he loved. Someone he would give everything to in a heart beat. Someone he would die trying to protect, even if he couldn't have come back through the ring. It was a little odd. Bakura felt a light bloom inside him. It felt like his life was taking a new turn now. Now, maybe he could finally put his past behind him. Perhaps, he could forget about revenge now. He could forget the tangles of his past. After all, now he had people he wanted to protect. And he would protect them with his life. He can dedicate his life to a new purpose now. And he will.

_"Fine, whatever you say," _Bakura smirked at him. As strange as it was, Ryou knew immediately that was Bakura's way of saying yes. Ryou nodded back and smiled. _"Just don't complain when I decide to have some fun in this body."_

It was crude humor, but Ryou chuckled anyways. And for things like that, Ryou was glad he could lock himself inside his soul room.

"Ready?" Ryou asked. Bakura nodded. Ryou concentrated for a moment, and switched control back over to Bakura now. Marik watched as Ryou's hair stood up and his eyes became sterner. It was strange how much more mature the same body could look with a different personality in it.

Marik didn't hesitate to pounce onto Bakura into some sort of super hug. Bakura blinked in confusion, considering he had just switched bodies, and looked up at Marik who was now on top of him, hugging him as they were pushed over on the bed.

"Uh… Marik?" Bakura slightly blushed. He couldn't help it.

"Well, it didn't work the first time," Marik smiled in the embrace of his hug. Bakura smiled back and returned the hug, wrapping his arms around his back gently. "Will you promise me now that you won't leave me again?" Marik asked. Bakura sighed sarcastically.

"Alright. I promise," Bakura laughed slightly. Marik buried his face in Bakura's chest as the continued the warm embrace of the hug.

"I love you, Bakura," Marik blushed as he whispered it shyly. But Bakura heard it loud and clear. Bakura began to blush furiously. It seemed like a much bigger of a deal now that they weren't in any life threatening situation. But he meant it all the same. He shyly mumbled the words back.

"I love you, Marik."

…


	15. From Humble Beginnings

**WARNING: This chapter is rated Mature+ for sexual content! (Sorry!)**

Chapter 15: From Humble Beginnings

Marik watched curiously from the corner of the bed as Bakura removed his red cloak and white t-shirt from his body, leaving only the bandages that Marik had wrapped his wounds up with the previous day on his torso. Bakura tried reaching for the knot on his back, but couldn't get to it. Marik giggled to himself as he watched Bakura's fruitless attempt to untie himself. Marik crawled over on the bed behind Bakura.

"Here, I'll do it for you," Marik smiled brightly. Bakura looked away in somewhat of a pout at his inability to do it himself. Marik giggled lightly, finding his expression seemingly cute. Marik quickly undid the knot, letting the bandages fall loosely down from Bakura's stomach as he unraveled them around his slender and pale body.

Bakura looked down to his stomach. His wounds were gone now, along with Mariku. He sighed in relief remembering Mariku's demise. Bakura no longer had anything to worry about for Marik's sake. At least, that is, until Marik's next futile plot to do god knows what goes horribly wrong, just like it normally did. But for now, they were at peace. Maybe even a little better than just simply at peace.

Marik wrapped his arms around Bakura's torso and buried his face in his shoulder blade. His body was a comforting warmth. He pressed his ear on his back so that he could hear Bakura's slow paced breathing. Marik's body tingled with all sorts of sensations in the tender embrace.

"Well?" Bakura asked, turning his head toward Marik, "Don't think I can take off something and not expect you to do the same." Bakura smirked slightly as Marik began to blush furiously. Marik pulled back and began to twiddle his fingers in embarrassment. Marik normally was the type who wouldn't hesitate to remove most of his clothing when the chance was presented with him. But now that it was with Bakura, everything was different now. And because it was the person he loved, Marik couldn't help but become shy.

"W-well, I-" Marik stuttered. Bakura turned around and pulled Marik's face only inches away from his own purposefully.

"Would you like me to do it for you?" Bakura teased, putting his hand on the zipper of Marik's small purple shirt and beginning to pull it down. Marik caught his hand in reflex.

"N-no! I can do it myself…" Marik stammered. Bakura laughed as he watched Marik remove his shirt in an uncertain and reserved manner. Bakura studied every inch of Marik's darkly tanned body carefully, memorizing every detail. It was just as he thought. It was perfect. Simply amazing.

"You seem nervous," Bakura teased playfully.

"I'm not!" Marik retaliated with a pout.

"Oh? Then why don't you prove it?" Bakura propped his arm on the bed next to Marik as he closed his eyes and leaned in forward for a rough kiss. Marik was startled by it at first, but then closed his eyes as well and returned the kiss back. Their tongues danced with each other in a slow tango-like motion. This was technically their second kiss, but it felt just as amazing as being their first. Their hearts fluttered and pounded all at the same time. Marik then curled his arms around Bakura's shoulders and pressed his hand lightly against the back of his head as they continued in the drawn out passion. They could feel each other gasping for breath, but it just felt too good to break it up just yet. It felt so damn amazing. The kiss became harsher and more passionate with every passing second. They finally broke it up when Bakura pushed his weight onto Marik, causing them to tumble over on the bed.

"Better?" Bakura smirked. And without even realizing it, Marik had lost the nervousness he felt only moments ago. His body relaxed itself on its own as they shared the deep kiss. Marik laughed gently as he brought his mouth up to Bakura's neck and started nibbling on it lightly. He moved his hand slowly down Bakura's torso, feeling his smooth skin all the way down to his jeans. Marik unbuttoned his pants and moved the zipper down.

"Feisty now, aren't we?" Bakura laughed, enjoying every bit of Marik's sudden actions.

"Oh hush," Marik laughed back. Bakura flipped their positions so that Marik was now the one on top. He did the same thing to Marik's pants as they shared another strong kiss. And as they continued to kiss, they kicked off each others pants slowly and shoved them to the floor. Bakura let his fingers trace over Marik's intricate scar on his back. Each line was perfectly incisioned, without any bumps or strange creases. Marik made a slight purring sound as he felt Bakura exploring the wonders of his back gently with care.

Marik pressed one of his hands under Bakura's stomach and then under his boxers and began to rub quickly and harshly. Bakura couldn't help but let out a few moans of pure pleasure. This wasn't for one second lustful or vulgar like he originally thought it'd be. No. This was pure passion. An expression of their love all coming down to this one moment. Bakura slid off his boxers for Marik to get a better grip, and Marik then slid his off for Bakura as well.

Bakura lightly brushed his hand over it a few times to tease Marik before finally wrapping his hand around it and beginning to massage it. Marik let out several heart filled moans the further and longer Bakura went. Marik swore he felt his body begin to melt itself away at the sensual sensation. He then pressed his face back into Bakura's neck and nibbled it roughly, trying to prevent himself from moaning even more. But Bakura enjoyed that. The more Marik tried to prevent himself, the harder Bakura worked to try and make him moan.

It was a seemingly endless amount of time as the two worked to pleasure each other. They both longed to make one another feel the best they possibly could, while also feeling their own bodies succumb to the sensations. They could feel each others breath become harder, almost as if they were drowning and gasping for air desperately. Marik buried his face in Bakura's side and nudged at him, telling him to turn over. Bakura had no complaints and did as Marik instructed him with pleasure and excitement. Extreme pleasure and excitement.

Marik kept himself caressed over Bakura for a moment, then sat up, moving himself down and beginning to push himself inside of Bakura slowly. Bakura couldn't hold back a long and drawn out moan as it happened. He clutched onto the bed tightly as if it were a life support. Marik brought himself in and out to an endless rhythm. Bakura's body became numb with pleasure as Marik continued his pattern, only further increasing his desires. Was this really all happening? It seemed like it must be a dream. But he'll be damned if it was a dream at this point. He wouldn't let it be.

They stayed in that rhythm for quite some time. Being in the moment, it felt like forever and yet too quick all at the same time. It was odd to think about how far the two had come since they had gotten here. And it was also stranger to have the thoughts be occurring in the heat of the moment. But it couldn't be helped. After all they'd been through at this point, it really did seem almost unrealistic that this was all happening right now. But nonetheless, it was indeed happening. And nonetheless, it felt great. No. It felt amazing. Everything about it was perfect. Everything about it was beautiful in its own strange and funny way. And as they continued, the more perfect it was. As they continued, the better it felt.

Marik felt himself reach his climax, releasing his warm liquid inside of Bakura slowly, moaning through every second of it. Bakura moaned as well, feeling it enter his body, and knowing full well that it was Marik's. When Marik was finally finished he nudged Bakura to turn back over, because now it was his turn.

Bakura turned back over and watched with enjoyment as Marik cupped his hands over the base and lowered his head so that it was only centimeters away from his lips. He brought his tongue out and licked lightly at first, then began to try and wrap his tongue around it in a swirling motion. He then began to slowly push it inside his mouth, bobbing his head up and down on it. Bakura was beginning to have an out of world experience. This was far more pleasure than he would ever get out of destroying the Pharaoh. And at that point, it didn't take very much for Bakura to reach his climax as well, with Marik drinking every last drop that came out of him.

When it was over, Marik layed himself on top of Bakura, letting his head rest just under Bakura's chin and feeling their bare bodies caress each other. They both had to lie there, gasping heavily, trying to regain their breath from the event for a long moment. The pleasure they were feeling slowly began converting into exhaustion. Marik buried his face into Bakura's neck once more and made a purring sound. He also lightly wrapped his arms around Bakura, gently kissed him on the cheek, and then moved back to burying his face in his neck. Bakura normally wasn't the cuddling type, but at this point he couldn't help himself. With Marik in general, he just couldn't help himself.

Bakura wrapped his arms lightly around Marik's body and kissed him softly on his head. His hair smelled of the fresh scent of strawberries and peaches, even after all the excitement they just went through. They held each other there for a long time, eyes closed and enjoying having each other in their arms. Marik could feel Bakura's heart beating softly under his own, making his heart start to beat twice as fast.

Marik pulled away from his neck and looked up to Bakura in his eyes, and Bakura opened his eyes to see Marik's deep violet eyes staring tenderly into his dark chocolate ones. Marik couldn't help but smile brightly, causing Bakura to smile gently as well.

"I love you, Bakura," Marik whispered sweetly. Bakura began to blush again and looked away. Marik didn't break his gaze, watching Bakura's embarrassment grow. It was rare that Bakura would ever be embarrassed about anything, so he enjoyed the moment. Bakura glanced back to Marik's sweet and innocent grin.

"Are you really going to make me say it for a fifth time?" Bakura sighed lightly in a pout, trying to fight his blush off.

"Yes," Marik chuckled with a nod. He found it rather adorable that Bakura had already been keeping track of how many times he said it. Marik remembered each time in his mind. Each time he heard the words flow through his head, his heart skipped a beat. Bakura sighed again and rolled his eyes playfully as he tried to compose himself once more.

"Only for you," Bakura mumbled in a slight pouting tone. "I love you, Marik." Bakura said once more, looking back into Marik's eyes. Marik felt his heart sing a sweet melody and he smiled widely at Bakura. People always say that words die out with time, but that just couldn't be true. Not when it came to that. Because it never got old to him. Every time Bakura said it, and every time Marik said it to Bakura, their hearts fluttered with the same indescribable and amazing feeling as it did with the first time, and the second, and the third, and the forth, and the fifth.

Bakura looked away again, slightly flustered at his own words and Marik's ecstatic expression, and then looked back toward Marik.

"Just don't expect me to hold your hand or anything like that," Bakura smirked lightly. Marik laughed and tightened his cuddle on Bakura. He expected no more from Bakura. He was happy as could be as things stood now.

"I won't," Marik smiled. Bakura smiled back.

…

~Never End~

**Author's note: No! It makes me so sad to say that this is the end! (I think I'm going to cry)... I enjoyed writting every bit of this story, and I find it kind of funny how different it turned out in the end than how it originally started out in the begining! Ah! I want to thank every single one of you who took the time to read, follow, favourite, and/or review this story! I really appreciate it! (This was my very first fanfction)! On a smaller note, I end all of my stories with "never end" rather than "the end" to indicate that even though there is no more to read or that I don't write anymore, the story goes on and never ends! Thank you all so much for the amazing support! I hope to see you all in the future! Thanks!**


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